i 


\ 


GIFT  OF 


ass   o         ' 


' 


. Albert  lllooMuu-u 


SIGN    TALE.>S 


Uniform  in  Style  with  this 
Volume. 

FOR  THE  SOUL  OF  RAFAEL. 
A  ROMANCE  OF  OLD  CALIFORNIA. 
With  19  photographic  illustrations, 
and  decorations  in  tint.  Twenty- 
fifth  thousand.  Large  i2mo.  $1.50. 


A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO.,  Publishers 
CHICAGO 


CARINA 


1IJSJSION  TALEJS 

IN  THE 

OF  THE  DONS 

MRS.  A.  S.  C.  FORBES 

Author  of  "California  Missions  and 
Landmarks,"  Etc. 

With  Nine  Full  Page  Illustrations  and  Decorative  Drawings 
BY 

LANGDON  SMITH 


CHICAGO 

A.  C.  McCLURG 

1909 


CO. 


COPYRIGHT 

A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO. 
1909 

Published  March  6,  1909 

Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall,  London,  England 
All  Rights  Reserved 


tUftr  fLafwsstlu  \Brtss 

R.  R.  DONNELLEY  &  SONS  COMPANY 
CHICAGO 


Co 


v\ 


INTRODUCTION 


'"TpHE  salient  points  of  these  Mission  Tales  are  derived 
from  facts,  stories,  and  reminiscences  told  to  me  by 
California  pioneers. 

Among  those  to  whom  I  am  pleased  to  be  indebted 
are  the  late  venerable  and  most  revered  Father  Rubio, 
Father  Ubach,  and  Father  Bott. 

Father  Rubio  graciously  and  generously  placed  at  my 
command  his  splendid  library,  and  my  research  was  en 
livened  by  his  delightful  reminiscences  of  his  fifty  years 
in  Mission  work  among  the  Indians  and  among  the  early 
Spanish  settlers.  His  field  of  work  extended  from  San 
Luis  Obispo  to  San  Fernando,  and  his  declining  days 
were  spent  in  Los  Angeles. 

To  the  Right  Reverend  Archbishop  George  Mont 
gomery  I  am  deeply  indebted,  as  he  graciously  gave  me 
a  personal  letter  that  enabled  me  to  inspect,  at  leisure, 
the  old  archives  of  the  Missions  and  the  highly  prized 
vestments,  ornaments,  and  relics  belonging  to  the  early 
period  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  California. 

Many  others  assisted  me  with  details  and  olden  cus 
toms,  especially  Rev.  Father  Juan  Caballeria,  of  Los 
Angeles,  Rev.  James  M.  O' Sullivan,  S.  J.,  of  Santa 
Clara  College,  and  Mr.  E.  P.  Plummer,  of-  Los  Angeles. 

Some  of  the  historical  incidents  are  noted  in  the 
works  of  Bancroft  and  Hittell  and  in  the  letters  of 
General  Vallejo. 

THE   AUTHOR 

Los  ANGELES,  January  75, 1909. 


CONTENTS 


MISSION  BELLS 


II. 


iWllllli' 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

III. 
A  STORY  OF  SAN  JUAN  CAPISTRANO 

IV. 
THE  RIDE  OF  THE  NEOPHYTES 

V. 
MATILIJA  .  .  . 

VI. 
CONCEPCION  AGUELLA  .... 

VII. 
THE  STORY  OF  LITTLE  ROSSIYA 

VIII. 
THE  PENANCE  BELL  OF  Los  ANGELES    . 

IX. 
WANA  AND  AHZI-PAPOOSE  . 

X. 
PIRATE  JOE  

XL 
Dos  HERMANAS  (THE  Two  SISTERS) 

XII. 
TERESA,  THE  POPELOUTECHOM  NEOPHYTE 

XIII. 
EL  MOLING  VIEJO  (THE  OLD  MILL)      . 


RATIONS 


CARINA 


As  His  ROUND  LITTLE  MULE  AMBLED  ALONG,  THE 
FAITHFUL  PADRE  COGITATED  UPON  THE  SINS  OF 
THE  WORLD  .......  18 

WILD  INDIANS  THEY,  WHO  RODE  LIKE  THE  DEMON        78 

FROM   ONE  TO  ANOTHER  THE  LONELY  GIRL   PASSED, 

UNTIL  SHE  CAME  TO  HER  LOVER          .         .         .     102 

IN  THE  CHURCH  SHE  WAS  KNOWN  AS  THE  SWEET-FACED 

SISTER  CONCHA    .......     130 


WANA  STOOD  LIKE  A  BRONZE  STATUE 

ON  IT  CAME,  LIKE  A  GREAT  BLACK  HAWK 


WHEN  A  SHINING  WHITE  CROSS  HAD  BEEN  ERECTED, 
AND  A  CHIME  OF  BELLS  HUNG  UPON  A  LIMB,  THE 
FRIARS  BEGAN  TO  TURN  SWIFTLY  THE  CRANK  OF  A 
SMALL  PIPE  ORGAN 280 

THE  PACK-TRAIN  STARTED  FROM  THE  DOOR  OF  THE 
CHAPEL,  HOPING  THE  FAREWELL  BLESSING  OF  THE 
PADRE  WOULD  PROTECT  THEM  ....  322 


MLission  Bells 


MISSION  TALES  IN  THE 
DAYS   OF   THE    DONS 


MISSION   BELLS 

EAR  the  chiming  of  the  bells, 

Mission  bells, 
What    a    world    of    blessedness 

their  melody  foretells! 
Hear  them  chiming,  chiming,  chiming, 
In  the  early  hour  of  light 
When  the  sun  is  climbing,  climbing, 
O'er  the  mountain  tops,  combining 
Crystal  dewdrops  with  the  night. 
Hear  them  ringing,  ringing,  ringing, 

(J) 


MISSION  TALES 

Calling  men  to  holy  vows, 
See  them  swinging,  swinging,  swinging, 
From  the  bended  oaken  boughs, 
Where  the  chapel  for  the  people, 
Is  the  heaven's  star-lit  steeple 
That's  attuned  with  sounding  cells 
To  the  music  of  the  bells, 

Mission  bells, 

Throbbing  bells! 
Hear  them  swell  in  agitation, 
Calling  out  regeneration 
Or  a  destiny  of  Hell! 
How  they  throb,  and  roll,  and  toll, 
Sobbing  of  the  melancholy  goal 

Of  the  tomb 

And  the  doom. 

Then  they   peal  in  merry  notes 
(#) 


MISSION  BELLS 

Fairly  bursting  throbbing  throats 
In  a  joyous,  happy  rhyme, 

Keeping  time, 

% 
Swinging  time, 

To  the  joy  that  scintillates 
Round  a  soul  that  intimates 

It  has  heard 

Welcome  word. 
Hear  the  liquid,  mellow  tones  of  the  bells, 

Mission  bells, 
When  the  neophyte  is  kneeling  at  the  well, 

Fountain  well, 

Holy  well! 

Hear  the  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells,  bells! 
Oh,  the  rhyming  and  the  chiming  Mission  bells! 


In  the  Days  of  the  Padres 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 


HE  dark-eyed  Indian  girls  of 
San  Diego  Mission  were  pic 
tures  of  charming  beauty  as 
they  danced  in  gay  fiesta 
dresses,  keeping  perfect  time 
to  the  soft  strains  of  the  guitars  and  the  snap 
ping  castanets.  There  were  many  Spanish  girls 
also  attending  the  Mission  school,  and  the 
Indians'  natural  grace  was  quickly  benefited  by 
daily  contact  with  these  daughters  of  a  more 
favored  people. 

On  this  evening  the  valley  hummed  with 
suppressed  emotion,  the  gentle  breeze  carried 
the  seductive  music  out  to  meet  the  rhythmic 


- 


MISSION  TALES 

clapping  of  the  spurs,  as  the  gay  riders,  who 
were  eagerly  expected,  rocked  to  and  fro  in 
their  saddles,  impatient  to  join  the  dancers  and 
steal  from  bewitching  eyes  the  secret  that  they 
longed  to  know. 

Senorita  Flora  watched  each  arrival  with  a 
shy,  restless  glance,  and  it  was  only  the  keen, 
alert  Padre  de  la  Pena  who  detected  the 
reposeful  change  in  the  happy  face,  accompa 
nied  by  a  slight  flush  of  rose  in  the  deep  color 
ing  when  Don  Pablo  Sepulveda  appeared.  He, 
the  handsomest,  the  boldest,  and  the  gayest  of 
all  San  Diego  caballeros,  leaped  his  horse  with 
in  the  very  dancing  ground,  making  it  kneel 
while  he  bent  low  before  the  enchanted  Flora. 
Many  a  young  man  sighed  for  a  glance  from 
those  dreamy,  beautiful  eyes,  but  the  maid 

(10} 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

thought  only  of  Don  Pablo.  She  was  a  tall, 
handsome  girl,  with  a  slight  strain  of  Indian 
blood  in  her  veins,  which  gave  a  quiet,  thought 
ful  touch  to  her  nature,  enhancing  by  contrast 
the  Spanish  gaiety  that  more  frequently  per 
vaded  her  actions. 

Her  love  was  plighted  to  Sepulveda,  and 
she  was  happy.  Senorita  Flora  danced  with  the 
inimitable  grace  of  a  Spanish  beauty  who  knew 
her  powers;  and  her  handsome  lover  swayed 
with  serpentine  poise  to  the  muse  of  golden 
melody,  as  he  led  her  through  the  mazes  of 
the  tuna,  watching  with  half-closed  eyes  the 
tempting  richness  of  her  beauty.  Together  they 
led  the  general  dance  of  Los  Camo(esy  the 
purely  Californian  dance,  the  only  one  the 
sainted  Padres  looked  upon  with  unalloyed  favor. 


MISSION  TALES 

When  the  little  Mission  settlement  was 
struggling  for  very  existence,  many  years  ago,  one 
of  the  good  Padres,  to  relieve  the  long  even 
ings  of  monotony,  and  to  drive  away  the  haunt 
ing  shadow  of  dull  care,  composed  a  song  and 
dance  that,  being  clothed  with  much  pious 
sentiment,  might  justly  be  danced  and  sung 
within  the  Mission  patio.  This  was  Los 
Camotes — the  sweet  potatoes,  or  perhaps  more 
correctly,  the  sweet  herbs.  To-night  the  young 
folks  sang  again  the  story  told  by  the  Fran 
ciscan  father  in  the  words  of  his  song,  of  the 
financial  distress  of  the  new  colony.  To  relieve 
the  situation  in  that  long  ago,  the  earnest 
Padres  planted  a  goodly  crop  of  sweet  herbs; 
but  when  the  harvest  time  came  there  were  not 
sufficient  funds  in  the  treasury  to  market  the 


THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

crop,  nor  even  to  tend  it  properly;  therefore 
the  priests  hypothecated  or  pawned  the  ca 
thedral  in  order  to  save  the  crop. 

The  chorus  tells  that,  had  they  planted  a 
more  general  crop,  it  would  have  been  better 
for  the  Mission. 

"Camstes  y  mas   Camotes 
Calabacitas,  chilucayotes, 
Limon  portido. 
Dame  un  abrazo 
Par  Dios  te  lo  pido." 

"Camotes  and  more   Camotes 
Little  pumpkins  and  gourds, 
Lemon  sliced. 
Embrace  me, 
For  the  love  of  God." 


M   /   S    S    I    O    N 


TALES 


The  original  words  of  the  song  expressed 
adoration  for  the  Holy  Mother;  but  as  years 
passed  they  became  sadly  perverted,  and  when 
the  kneeling  singer  directed  his  upturned  eyes 
to  the  smiling  face  above  him,  the  adoration 
paused  in  its  triumphant  flight,  and  too  fre 
quently  the  embrace  was  intended  for  the  part 
ner —  as  it  is  to-day.  The  song  had  many 
verses,  and  each  upon  a  theme  of  its  own. 
The  old  custom  of  allowing  the  Indian  girls 
to  choose  their  husbands  was  set  forth;  and 
as  sometimes  occurs,  the  good  Friar  in  this 
instance  objected  to  the  young  man  upon 
whom  one  of  his  neophytes  insisted  upon  lav 
ishing  her  affections.  The  more  seriously  the 
Father  objected,  the  more  determined  and 
persistent  became  the  girl;  until  in  despera 
te) 
__. 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

tion    the    Padre    banished    the    youth    from   the 
Mission. 

In  defence  the  young  man  sings: 

"Porque,  Padre,  me  destierras 
Y  me  mandas  padecer 
Del  mundo  crueles  penas 
Si  el  amor  es  la  mujer" 

"Why,   Father,  should  you  banish  me, 
And  command  me  to  suffer 
The  sorrow  of  the  world, 
Since  the  love  comes  from  the  woman  ? " 

Gayly  they  danced  and  sang  these  merry 
songs,  interspersed  with  single  or  double  quick 
steps  or  jigs,  and  the  night  had  small  hours 
when  the  neophytes  sought  the  seclusion  of 
the  quadrangle.  Many  of  the  maidens  were 


MISSION 


TALES 


to  exchange,  upon  the  following  day,  the.  tute 
lage  of  the  Mission  Padres  for  the  influence  of 
their  homes  on  the  ranchos. 

The  ever-watchful  De  la  Pena  was  glad 
when  the  young  folks  had  retired,  for  he  had 
reason  to  be  thoughtful.  Late  in  the  evening 
he  had  overheard  Don  Pablo  Sepulveda  and 
Don  Jose  del  Valle,  swear  to  make  a  tour  from 
San  Diego  to  the  Mission  of  Solano  de  Sonoma 
and  dance  with  all  the  beauties  of  the  Missions. 
Had  it  ended  there,  no  harm  would  have  been 
done;  but  they  boldly  made  a  wager  before  a 
half-dozen  friends,  that  each  would  return  with 
the  sacred  marriage-promise  of  a  dozen  of  these 
seftoritas.  The  caballeros  arranged  to  go  by 
El  Camino  Real,  at  sunrise,  upon  the  following 
day  but  one. 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

The  honest  Padre  studied  well  what  he 
should  do.  These  godless  youths,  these  thought 
less  men,  why  could  they  not  appreciate  a 
woman's  heart?  Should  he  tell  the  girl,  sweet, 
confiding  Flora?  No,  that  would  never  do. 
After  a  short  time  he  came  to  a  satisfactory 
conclusion,  and  it  was  but  a  very  few  moments 
until  he  rode  forth  into  the  moonlight.  On 
his  good-natured  face  there  fluttered  a  confi 
dent  smile,  and  now  and  again  he  wagged  his 
head  and  murmured,  "We  shall  see,  young 
men,  we  shall  see  !  " 

As  his  well-fed,  round  little  mule  ambled 
along  the  good  road  that  stretched  in  those 
days  between  the  Missions  of  California,  the 
faithful  Padre  cogitated  upon  the  sins  of  the 
world,  and  especially  upon  the  sins  of  men. 


MISSION  TALES 

This  good  man  grieved  that  the  sons  of 
Adam  did  not  love  the  beauties  of  the  heart, 
but  won  the  soul-boat  only  to  wreck  it  in  a 
flood  current  of  gray  sadness.  He  saw  these 
men  revelling  in  butterfly  fancy,  sipping  the 
rose-hued  vintage  from  each  pretty  lip,  only 
to  steal  the  spring's  warmth  and  pass  on  to 
the  summer  night's  cool,  stirring  breeze.  His 
heart  rose  and  rebelled  at  their  impious  rav 
ages  on  women's  hearts  and  at  their  unconscion 
able  vanity.  He  called  them  flatterers,  triflers, 
deceivers,  seducers.  He  spoke  aloud,  and  ad 
vised  the  absent  mothers  to  teach  purity  to 
their  sons  as  well  as  to  their  daughters.  He 
shamed  the  absent  father  for  the  neglect  of  his 
son.  He  called  the  son  "personified  vanity 
distributing  heart-ache."  Should  two  young 

(/*) 


r 
I 

o    f 

2     w 


W      W 
01     W 


«s 

^  -° 

M      H 


IN  THE  DAYS   OF  THE  PADRES 

women  make  raid  upon  the  hearts  of  all  ca- 
balleros  dwelling  between  San  Diego  and  San 
Francisco  Missions,  what  would  be  the  comment, 
the  criticism,  the  verdict  rendered  in  their  case? 
Shame,  disgrace,  contempt.  Yet  here  were  two 
well-connected,  popular,  handsome  young  men 
openly,  flauntingly,  avowing  their  intention  of 
committing  such  a  folly.  How  they  would  be 
received  when  their  mission  was  known,  was 
the  one  thought  uppermost  in  the  mind  of 
the  Padre.  Would  women  permit  such  dese 
cration  of  their  souls,  the  wanton  trifling  with 
their  affection,  their  honor,  their  home  life? 
He  would  test  the  Indian  girl;  for  he  knew 
that  many  of  the  most  beautiful  girls  were 
Indians,  and  these  young  men  would  undoubt 
edly  select  the  prettiest  faces.  He  believed 


MISSION  TALES 

the  Indian  would  prove  superior  to  those  pale- 
faced  maidens  and  mothers  who  carefully  and 
constantly  frown  darkly  upon  all  women  who 
trifle  away  their  own  honor,  yet  permit  the 
male  participant  in  that  sin  to  come  into  the 
very  hearthstone  circle  of  the  home. 

He  fairly  shouted :  "  Mothers,  why  teach 
honor  to  your  daughters  and  let  your  sons 
run  wild?  Man  came  first,  and  should  be 
the  example/' 

The  sweet  call  of  the  Angelus  bell  rang 
out  on  the  evening  air  as  the  weary  Padre 
rode  up  to  the  hospitable  door  of  San  Juan 
Capistrano  Mission  upon  the  following  day. 
The  evening  meal  was  enlivened  by  the  re 
cital  of  the  extraordinary  cause  of  the  Padre's 
visit  to  the  Missions.  No  little  amusement, 

(90) 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

as  well  as  vexation,  was  felt  by  the  pious  work 
ers.  When  it  had  been  well  discussed.  Padre 
de  la  Pena  asked  the  Fathers  of  San  Juan  to 
carry  the  message  to  San  Luis  Rey,  and  per 
haps  even  to  Pala;  he  told  them  to  tell  all 
the  maidens  of  the  wager,  and  thus  defeat  the 
men.  Late  the  following  day  he  took  a  short 
route  to  Mission  San  Gabriel  Archangel,  and 
rested  at  night  at  a  rancher's  home  where  there 
were  many  pretty  girls,  and  boldly  but  jestingly 
told  them  also  of  the  wager. 

Perhaps  the  good  Father  enjoyed  the  part 
he  was  taking  in  the  little  drama,  for  occa 
sionally  his  clear  voice  rang  out  on  the  air 
singing  snatches  of  gay  rhymes,  strains  from 
the  caballeros*  songs,  interspersed  with  sacred 
chanting,  as  he  rode  along  the  way. 

(*/) 


MISSION  TALES 

Don  Pablo  Sepulveda  and  Don  Jose  del 
Valle  were  familiar  figures  along  the  Royal 
Road.  They  rode  two  splendid,  velvet-footed, 
prancing  horses  that  were  always  gayly  decked 
with  silver  trappings,  and  they  themselves  were 
handsome  in  their  rich  riding  caps  and  jackets, 
exquisitely  embroidered  scarfs  or  sashes,  and 
wide-brimmed,  silver-decked  sombreros,  as  they 
went  to  pay  their  welcome,  frequent  visits  to 
the  Missions  and  the  ranches  that  lay  scattered 
along  the  coast  of  California  or  not  far  inland. 
They  were  well  known  to  the  Mission  Fathers, 
and  hitherto  had  seemed  great  favorites. 

It  was  with  a  certain  surprise  that  they  found 
only  the  male  neophytes  of  the  Mission  ready 
to  entertain  them  when  they  arrived  at  San  Juan 
Capistrano  the  day  after  De  la  Pena's  visit. 

(22) 


m 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

They  soon  proceeded  to  San  Luis  Rey 
and  the  neighboring  asistencia  chapel  of  Pala, 
where  were  some  of  the  most  beautiful  Indian 
girls.  Here  their  chagrin  was  almost  shown 
when  they  were  told  that  one  fair  senorita 
after  another  was  absent  upon  a  visit,  or  en 
gaged  in  some  pursuits  that  demanded  strict 
attention,  or,  worse  still,  was  seen  to  be  deeply 
entertained  by  other  senores. 

Inclined  to  be  haughty  as  well  as  bold, 
for  they  had  been  much  petted  at  home  and 
cajoled  abroad,  they  timed  a  short  stay  and 
rode  on  to  San  Gabriel,  designing,  however, 
to  lay  siege  again  to  the  hearts  of  San  Juan 
Capistrano  and  Pala  when  returning  with  their 
northern  conquests. 

"What!  is  Senorita  Josefa  also  absent  on 
(*?) 


MISSION  TALES 

a  visit,  and  charming  Weenah  betrothed  to 
Don  Tono  Abila?  And  Senoritas  Mariana 
and  Tula  and  the  gay  Loreta,  where  are 
they  ? "  asked  the  somewhat  perturbed  Sepul- 
veda  of  the  merry-faced  major  domo  of  Don 
Juan's  rancho. 

"Is  not  Don  Juan  to  give  us  our  usual 
welcome  and  a  dance?"  joined  in  Del  Valle. 

"  Certainly,  certainly,  senores,  Don  Juan  will 
come  this  evening  and  will  entertain  you;  for 
the  senoritas  are  away,  all  but  Senorita  Ween 
ah,  and  she  is  now  betrothed  to  Don  Tono, 
as  you  say,"  drawled  the  major  domo  with  a 
smile  almost  provoking. 

The  following  morning  found  the  young 
men  riding,  not  so  gayly,  away  toward  the  little 
pueblo  of  Los  Angeles,  where  surely  they 


V 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

would  find  a  hospitable  welcome  from  the  several 
Spanish  families  clustered  there.  The  few  seno- 
ritas  that  were  at  home  received  the  young 
men  courteously;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  they 
sang  so  gayly  with  a  visiting  captain  of  the 
guards,  and  seemed  so  certainly  to  prefer  the 
attentions  of  a  young  merchant  of  Los  Angeles, 
who  dropped  in  with  a  great  box  of  bonbons 
and  a  huge  cluster  of  Castilian  roses,  that  Sepul- 
veda  and  Del  Valle  early  withdrew  without  any 
apparent  regret  on  the  part  of  the  charming 
hostesses. 

They  could  not  fathom  the  quiet  reserve 
with  which  they  were  treated,  yet  it  was  such 
that  they  could  not  make  any  open  objection. 
After  talking  it  over  they  decided  that  they 
were  "  out  of  tune, "  as  it  were,  and  that  a 


\  \ 


MISSION  TALES 

quick  gallop  over  Cahuenga  Pass  and  out 
along  El  Camino  Real  to  San  Fernando  Mis 
sion  would  attune  them  to  their  quest  and 
restore  their  usual  spirits.  They  were  sure  to 
enjoy  a  day  at  the  old  olive  Mission  with  the 
glorious  red  wines  and  fresh  fruits;  and  be 
sides,  each  already  had  a  real  sweetheart  there. 
Of  course  Senorita  Flora  knew  nothing  of  the 
dark-eyed  brown  maiden  of  the  olives,  but  then 
there  was  no  use  telling  Flora  every  little  thing. 
Arriving  at  San  Fernando  just  as  the  early 
evening  glow  covered  the  distant  hills  in  a 
rose  and  purple-hued  robe,  the  young  men 
felt  that  it  had  been  all  their  own  fault,  that  here 
tofore  they  had  not  been  attuned  and  had 
been  impatient;  but  here  even  the  valley  sent 
a  mirrored  glowing  welcome. 


IN  THE   DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

With  his  quiet,  alluring  grace,  Don  Pablo 
eagerly  asked  the  Padre  of  the  Mission  for  the 
"little  brown  thrush,"  as  he  called  the  pretty 
Indian  girl  that  had  so  charmed  him,  and 
whom  also  the  good  Padre  loved  as  his  own 
child. 

"The  child  is  not  at  the  Mission;  she  was 
endangered  from  an  attack  of  a  serpent,  and  I 
sent  her  away  that  she  might  not  be  strangled, 
—  'the  little  brown  thrush/'  answered  the 
Padre.  Had  Don  Pablo  been  more  keen,  he 
would  have  felt  the  thrust,  but  as  it  was, 
he  asked  with  deep  interest, 

"Was  she  bitten,  Father?  Is  she  in  danger, 
my  c little  brown  thrush'?"  The  piercing  eye 
of  the  searcher  of  men  saw  that  the  man  was, 
in  his  shallow  way,  concerned  about  the  poor 


m 


e 


\i 


StoJW 


MISSION  TALES 

little  bird,  and  he  was  more  glad  than  ever  that 
the  girl's  confiding  soul  was  indeed  out  of 
danger. 

"No,  she  was  not  bitten,  only  attacked," 
said  the'  Father,  and  led  the  young  men  into 
the  dining-hall  to  have  refreshments  with  the 
Padres. 

Never  were  flirtatious  youths  more  surely 
checked.  San  Fernando  was  in  no  way  differ 
ent  from  the  other  Missions  or  ranchos;  a 
cordial  hospitality  was  extended,  but  no  seno- 
ritas  were  there  to  entertain  them. 

At  Santa  Barbara  they  learned  that  Padre 
de  la  Pena  was  but  two  days  ahead  of  them, 
and  they  took  notice,  for  the  first  time,  that 
the  quiet  Padre  was  taking  a  journey  to  San 
Francisco  as  well  as  they. 

(**) 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

Through  previous  arrangement,  they  were 
joined  at  Santa  Barbara  by  the  other  comrades 
from  San  Diego,  who  knew  of  the  wager  and 
were  all  anxious  to  hear  of  the  conquests. 
Sepulveda  and  Del  Valle  covered  their  defeat 
as  best  they  could  with  wild  stories  and  grace 
less  lies;  but  soon  the  friends  tantalized  them 
into  the  confession  that,  for  the  most  part,  the 
senoritas  were  away  from  home — as  the  young 
men  following  well  knew. 

At  least  gay  Monterey  still  lay  before 
them,  and  the  most  beautiful  and  charming 
senoritas  on  the  coast  were  there  awaiting  the 
attack.  Padre  de  la  Pena  was  there  also  before 
them.  But  here  the  maidens  arranged  quite  a 
different  reception  for  the  daring  caballeros. 
They  prepared  a  gay  and  gorgeous  festival. 


MISSION  TALES 

They  took  counsel  with  the  Padres  and  with 
their  parents,  with  their  betrothed  and  with  the 
other  gallant  senores. 

There  was  one,  the  fascinating  Senorita 
Rubia,  known  to  have  charms  that  had  all 
but  captivated  young  Sepulveda  upon  his 
last  visit.  She  was  now  the  betrothed  bride 
of  Don  Antonio  Florenza.  She  should  lead 
the  dance  with  Sepulveda. 

The  young  men  from  San  Diego  came 
and  were  all  received  with  unrestrained  wel 
come.  The  night  was  silent,  placid,  dreamy, 
beautiful ;  the  full  moon  smiled  triumphantly, 
and  the  glittering  stars  twinkled  their  approv 
al;  but  the  soft  zephyr  sighed  in  pity  for  the 
men.  The  pillars  of  the  broad  veranda  were 
twined  with  vines  and  flowers  intermingled  with 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

gay  streamers  and  banners  of  Spanish  colors, 
and  the  soft  candle-glow  paled  before  the  full 
flood  of  moonlight  that  shed  its  glory  over  the 
patio  and  beneath  the  wide-spreading  arches, 
casting  mellow  rays  over  the  soft  adobe  walls. 
The  quiet  murmur  of  the  trickling  water,  as  it 
played  over  the  ivy-grown  fountain,  added  allure 
ment  to  the  enticing  scene,  gay  with  bright 
blossoms  and  ferns,  rare  roses  and  strange  vines. 
The  handsome  senoritas  gathered  in  clusters 
here  and  there,  each  vying  with  the  others  in 
contrasting  charms.  Don  Pablo  and  Don  Jose 
appeared  early,  made  reckless  by  their  former 
defeats  and  the  knowledge  that  this  was  the 
only  grand  fiesta  and  dance  they  could  ex 
pect.  They  plunged  into  the  merriment  and 
drank  to  its  depth. 


(JO 


*WUi  •_•><« 

tilt! 


MISSION  TALES 

Dancing,  singing,  flirting,  love-making, 
reckless  flattery,  song  and  wine,  made  the 
evening  gay;  and  the  opportunity  made  the 
two  men  wild.  So  frequently  did  they  swear 
the  same  love  away  that  they  all  but  forgot 
the  name  of  the  first  sweetheart.  But  the 
girls  —  they  did  not  give  a  promise,  they  merely 
laughed. 

Pretty  Rubia,  with  most  bewitching  grace, 
hung  attentively  upon  each  word  of  the  faith 
less  Sepulveda.  He  was  captivated,  charmed, 
in  truth  enamored,  and  wholly  forgot  the  bet 
and — Flora.  He  led  the  beautiful  girl  to  the 
shadowed  arches  of  the  vine-draped  quadrangle 
and  made  her  listen  to  his  burning  love.  She 
was  silent;  never  before  had  she  heard  such 
ardent  pleadings,  such  promises  of  enduring, 

(J*) 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

undying  love.  He  swore  his  faith,  his  love, 
his  very  life,  and  begged  her  to  believe  him. 
Surely  this  man  could  not  be  acting. 

Bending  over  her  he  cried,  "Rubia  ;»/#,  mia 
carisima,  listen:  I  love  you,  I  love  you  with 
all  the  fervent  ardor  of  my  soul.  I  will 
break  all  the  bonds  that  bind  me,  and  live  for 
you  alone!  Ah,  soul  of  mine,  how  I  love  you, 
love  you!  I  did  not  know  my  heart  until 
this  night;  but  now  radiant  happiness  shines 
forth,  and  all  my  sighs,  my  every  breath,  shall 
be  a  plea  that  you  will  give  me  one  ray  of 
hope.  Speak  to  me,  love's  heavenly  jewel, 
and  say  you  love  me!  Say  there  is  one  ray 
of  sunshine  for  my  adoring  heart.  Rubia,  Rubia, 
my  beloved,  my  adored,  I  swear  my  love, 
my  troth  to  you!  Darling  one,  I  vow  to 

(33) 


MISSION  TALES 

heaven  here  on  my  knee  that  my  love  is  yours 
alone!  Believe  me/*  he  pleaded. 

Thus  he  told  her  over  and  over  again 
that  he  loved  her  and  her  alone ;  but  she  sat 
silent,  with  a  world  of  wonder  in  her  exquisite 
face.  How  could  a  man  be  so  deceitful?  She 
knew  of  his  wager,  and  did  not  believe  a  word 
of  his  protestations.  She  did  not  know  that 
the  man  had  lost  his  own  happiness  in  his 
attempt  to  destroy  hers.  His  heart  cried  out 
for  her,  for  he  saw  that  she  did  not  believe 
him. 

She  quickly  recovered  her  poise  (for  the 
ardent  outburst  had  for  the  moment  discon 
certed  her),  and  smilingly  said : 

"  Give  me  as  a  love  token,  Senor  Sepul- 
veda,  the  beautiful  scarf  and  band  of  perfect 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

embroidery  that  you  wear,  and  then  will  I 
believe  you,"  knowing  that  beyond  all  doubt 
they  were  Flora's  handiwork. 

Unhesitatingly  the  false  Sepulveda  un 
wound  the  scarf  and  band,  the  last  gifts  of 
the  deserted  Flora,  and  with  perfect  grace  laid 
them  at  her  feet.  As  she  bent  forward  to 
receive  them  her  soft  perfumed  presence  was 
as  wine  to  the  kneeling  man.  He  sprang  to 
his  feet  and  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  for 
one  perfect,  precious  moment,  he  held  her;  he 
fairly  crushed  her  in  a  fierce  embrace  against  his 
fast-beating  heart,  as  he  pressed  back  her  head 
and  kissed  her  lips  again  and  again. 

She  would  have  screamed  aloud  but  for 
shame  that  she  had  allowed  herself  to  be  en 
trapped  and  outwitted.  She  struggled  to  free 

05) 


MISSION  TALES 

herself,  and  with  overwhelming,  beauteous  con 
fusion  she  faltered, 

"You  take  advantage  of  me!  To-morrow — 
to-morrow  I  shall  wear  the  beautiful  scarf  to  the 
wedding  at  the  church."  Pausing,  she  added, 
"You  will  follow  me  there,  Senor  Sepulveda, 
will  you  not?" 

Not  really  comprehending  what  she  said, 
the  love-intoxicated  man  replied, 

"I  will  follow  you  anywhere,  over  mountains 
or  seas,  Rubia  mia,  my  love,  my  own!  My 
life  is  complete.  With  thee,  indeed,  I  will  go 
to  the  church." 

"No,  no,  you  must  follow,"  quickly  an 
swered  the  girl;  for  she  was  now  wholly  alive 
to  the  situation,  and  knew  she  must  keep  it 
in  hand  from  now  on. 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

Mention  of  the  wedding  gave  her  a  slight 
mental  shock;  for,  as  she  spoke,  a  comparison 
arose  between  Don  Pablo  and  her  own  chosen 
Don  Antonio,  and  brought  quivering  doubts 
to  her  mind.  Could  Antonio  be  thus  untrue  ? 
Could  Antonio  thus  trifle  with  a  girl's  love  ? 
The  thought  reflected  sadness  in  her  face. 
Sepulveda  saw  it,  and  with  satisfaction  believed 
that  the  shadow  came  because  he  might  not 
accompany  her  to  the  wedding.  His  wager 
was  entirely  forgotten,  and  he  now  believed 
the  girl's  heart  was  indeed  his  very  own. 

The  evening  quickly  closed,  and  it  was 
not  until  he  met  Del  Valle  that  Sepulveda 
realized  what  he  had  done,  and  knew  that  a 
very  trying  explanation  would  have  to  be 
made.  Love's  malady  began  to  mend,  and 

(37) 

?M 


MISSION 


TALES 


Pablo  at  once  cast  about  him  for  reasons 
and  lies  whereby  to  shield  himself  and  satisfy 
his  friend  for  having  devoted  himself  almost 
entirely  to  the  charming  Rubia.  But  withal 
he  was  very  happy. 

He  would  not  have  been,  could  he  have 
heard  the  handsome  girl's  rippling  laugh  as 
she  gayly  rehearsed  the  scene,  under  the  shad 
owed  arch,  to  the  merry  crowd  of  young 
folks,  of  whom  Don  Antonio  Florenza  was 
the  most  exulting. 

The  diamond  dewdrops  of  the  morning  yet 
glistened  on  the  blossoms  that  were  gathered 
to  decorate  the  grand  Mission  chapel  of  Mon 
terey.  A  great  wedding  was  to  take  place, 
and  all  the  senores  and  senoritas  for  miles 
around  were  invited  to  be  present.  Both  Sepul- 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

veda  and  Del  Valle  had  been  so  engrossed 
with  their  own  happiness  over  their  evening's 
conquest  that  they  had  neglected  to  inquire 
who  were  to  be  married,  and  intentionally 
they  had  not  been  told. 

Being  guests  at  Monterey,  as  a  matter  of 
course  they  attended  the  wedding.  The  bells 
chimed  gayly  as  the  hundreds  of  guests  gath 
ered  at  the  beautiful  old  Mission  Carmel  to 
witness  the  ceremony.  List!  They  are  com 
ing,  the  wedding  party  is  arriving!  Many 
are  the  exclamations  and  expressions  of  ad 
miration  for  the  bride.  "She  is  the  handsom 
est  girl  in  Monterey!  Nay,  the  handsomest 
in  all  California!"  "How  glorious!  How 
beautiful!"  These  and  many  other  like  re 
marks  were  made  on  every  side. 

(39} 


MISSION 


TALES 


Don  Pablo  heard  and  quickly  said,  "Why, 
no;  Senorita  Rubia  is  the  flower  of  Monterey, 
the  acknowledged  jewel  of  the  land ! "  And 
all  who  heard  him  smilingly  answered,  "Why, 


yes, 


so    she    is  !  " 


They  were  coming  down  the  aisle,  this 
glorious  beauty,  this  radiantly  lovely  bride 
and  her  attendants.  Don  Pablo  turned  slight 
ly  to  look  upon  the  wondrous  beauty.  He 
reeled,  and  steadied  himself  against  Del  Valle, 
his  face  an  ashy  gray.  Within  the  sanctu 
ary  walls  a  curse  escaped  his  lips  as  he  saw 
the  lovely,  the  handsome  Rubia  wound  in  his 
embroidered  scarf,  her  graceful  head  carried 
high,  crowned  by  a  towering  comb  and  an 
exquisite  mantilla  of  lace,  which  partly  hid  her 
flaming  cheeks  and  sparkling  eyes,  and  inter- 


i^£* 


: AM i NO  ztZ 


9 


THE  ZX47S  OF  THE  PADRES 

cepted  the  defiant  look  that  sought  Sepulveda's 
bewildered  gaze.  In  the  expression  of  her 
face  he  read  it  all:  the  girl  had  known  of 
the  wager. 

He  did  not  hear  the  service,  but  he  saw 
his  own  scarf  wound  about  the  necks  of 
Rubia  and  Antonio  as  a  yoke  for  the  eternal 
wedding  vows.  He  was  the  first  to  leave  the 
chapel;  and  when  his  friends  sought  him  to  joke 
him  about  the  wedding  scarf,  he  was  gone, 
and  so  also  was  Del  Valle.  They  made  their 
way  to  San  Francisco  to  try  to  replace  the  scarf 
and  band  —  a  fruitless  errand,  as  Sepulveda 
might  have  known  had  he  remembered  that 
Flora  had  made  them  herself. 

With  the  indomitable  self-assurance  of  a 
vain,  pampered  youth,  Sepulveda  prepared  in 


MISSION  TALES 

his  mind  a  tale  to  tell  the  faithful,  confiding 
Flora;  but  he  might  have  saved  himself  the 
trouble,  for  in  San  Diego  the  daring,  perfidious 
wager  was  now  well  known,  and  Father  de  la 
Pena  had  shielded  the  loving  Flora  by  instruct 
ing  her  how  to  meet  the  trying  situation. 

On  the  first  Sunday  morning  after  the 
young  men  had  returned  and  all  the  people 
were  gathered  in  the  chapel  for  services,  the 
good  Padre,  openly,  earnestly,  and  with  direct 
ness,  admonished  all  people  to  deal  fairly  and 
justly  one  with  another,  and  seriously  remon 
strated  with  young  men  for  their  disregard  of 
plighted  love. 

Don  Pablo  Sepulveda  shrugged  his  shoul 
ders  and  said, 

"  I  like  not  San  Diego,  and  shall  go  away." 


IN  THE  DAYS  OF  THE  PADRES 

To    Monterey?"  softly  whispered  a  voice 
behind  him. 

He  turned  quickly,  but  the  speaker  was  gone. 
The  voice  was  that  of  Senorita  Flora. 


A  Story  of  San  Juan 
Cafiistrano 


A  STORY   OF   SAN  JUAN 
CAPISTRANO 


HE  ruins  of  the  once  grand 
Mission  of  San  Juan  Capis- 
trano  were  to  be  restored  to 
the  Padres. 

As  a  parish  church  Capis- 
trano  had  been  a  failure;  the  broad  lands,  the 
extensive  herds,  the  thousands  of  Indian  prose 
lytes,  and  the  wealth  of  the  Mission  had 
been  scattered  —  had  been  divided  and  had 
passed  into  other  hands.  There  was  nothing 
left  of  the  grandeur  and  power  but  a  heap  of 
magnificent  ruins  and  a  handful  of  saddened 
yet  enthusiastic  believers.  These  men  and 


MISSION 


TALES 


women  rejoiced  that  even  the  tumbled-down 
walls  of  grand  old  San  Juan  Capistrano  were 
to  be  returned  to  their  rightful  owners. 

It  was  in  the  year  1865  that  the  Bishop  of 
California  regained  possession  of  the  ruined 
Mission  and  sent  out  a  call  to  the  Indians  to 
gather  once  again  within  the  sacred  grounds 
and  join  in  giving  thanks  to  the  Holy  One 
for  His  goodness.  Many  proved  their  love 
and  devotion  to  the  men  who  had  guided 
them  in  the  past,  by  joyfully  responding  to 
the  call;  and  thus  hundreds  of  dark  men  and 
women  were  again  in  the  quadrangle  of  San 
Juan  Capistrano  to  join  in  the  religious  festival 
that  was  to  rededicate  the  glorious  old  Mis 
sion.  To  these  people  it  was  a  whisper  from 
the  past,  and  with  fast-beating  hearts  many 


SAN     JUAN     CAPISTRANO 

of  them  had  prepared  for  the  journey  to 
Capistrano. 

Many  remembered  the  grandeur  of  the 
building  before  the  disastrous  earthquake  of 
1812,  that  shook  the  newly  completed  chapel 
to  its  foundation  and  sent  the  wide-spreading 
dome  crashing  down  upon  the  kneeling  congre 
gation.  Sad  memories  crowded  their  hearts,  as 
one  after  another  remembered  his  parents  or 
elder  brothers  or  sisters  who  lay  dead  under 
neath  the  crumbled  church  walls,  and  heard  the 
terrified  cries  of  those  who  yet  lived  and  were 
imprisoned  beneath  the  shattered  timbers. 

The  miraculous  escape  of  the  holy  men 
within  the  altar  railing  had  ever  enshrouded 
the  Mission  Padres  with  a  veil  of  special  protec 
tion,  and  the  believers  blindly  and  gladly  fol- 


MISSION  TALES 

lowed  their  leading.  So  the  crowding  memories 
brought  old  and  young  alike,  and  the  occasion 
was  one  of  great  rejoicing. 

To  Carina,  a  beautiful  half  Indian,  half 
Spanish  girl,  it  seemed  the  event  of  her  life. 
She  had  been  raised  by  a  kind-hearted  couple 
who  thought  or  cared  for  little  else  than  the 
Church  and  a  few  tortillas.  Her  guardian,  the 
good  duenna,  sat  nodding  in  the  doorway  of 
the  most  picturesque  little  adobe  hut,  serenely 
content  with  the  thought  of  once  again  going 
to  the  Mission  and  this  time  taking  the  dearly 
loved  child  Carina;  while  she,  pretty  maiden, 
slyly  stole  out  through  the  waving  and  low- 
spreading  pepper  branches,  looking  for  some 
one  who  waited  for  her. 

When  far  enough  away  from  the  hut  to  be 


Tf. 


SAN     JUAN     CAPISTRANO 

sure  that  her  footsteps  would  not  arouse  the 
duenna,  the  girl  ran.  She  hoped  to  reach  the 
turning  in  the  short  lane  before  her  absence 
was  discovered,  or  before  Benito,  her  gay,  hand 
some  lover,  should  reach  the  corner,  if  he  was 
on  the  way.  The  turn  in  the  road,  and  the 
swaying  branches,  hid  her  from  view  as  she  was 
caught  in  the  open  arms  of  Benito,  who  had 
watched  her  coming.  A  low  cry  almost  be 
trayed  her  to  the  duenna;  but  the  sound  was 
smothered  in  kisses,  and  the  lovers  turned 
down  the  lane  and  made  good  their  escape. 
"  Oh,  Benito,  I  have  such  news ! " 
"What,  mia  Carina,  mia  carisima?  Tell  me 
quickly!  Will  you  go  now?" 

"No,  no,  no!     Must  I  repeat  so  often?    But 
listen.     There    is    to    be    a   grand    fiesta  at  San 

(JO 


I   S    S    I    O    N  TALES 

Juan  Capistrano  Mission,  and  the  duenna  and 
Pedro  are  going.  Then  shall  I  go.  You,  who 
scorn  the  Church  and  are  ungodly,  will  not  be 
expected  to  go;  and  then —  Do  you  see?" 

"Ah,  yes,  sweet  one,  I  see!  I  will  be  there, 
and  then  we  shall  find  some  one  who  will 
marry  us." 

"Ah  no,  ah  no,  Benito!  Though  I  love 
you  well,  though  I  love  you  dearly  and  even 
steal  these  meetings  with  you,  no  real  mar 
riage  can  be  between  unbelievers  and  the  true 
ones  of  the  Holy  Church.  I  have  been 
sworn,  and  am  sworn,  into  the  Holy  Mother 
Church,  and  you  must  come  to  the  Church 
to  get  me." 

"  I  will  come  to  the  Church,  I  will  come 
to  San  Juan,"  he  said. 

Iff) 


SAN     JUAN     CAPISTRANO 

Could  Carina  have  seen  the  look  upon  his 
handsome  face  and  in  his  artful  eyes,  she  would 
have  lost  all  faith  in  him. 

The  journey  to  Capistrano  was  hot  and 
dusty,  for  the  picturesque  old  Mission  lies  on  a 
rolling  crest  in  the  centre  of  a  basin,  and  be 
yond  are  other  rolling  barren  hills.  These  hills 
were  once  covered  with  golden  grain  and  vine 
yards  and  orchards,  while  the  entire  landscape 
was  flecked  with  thousands  of  cattle  and  horses ; 
everywhere  were  reflected  thrift  and  industry. 

Now,  alas,  there  was  nothing  but  naked 
tracts  of  ruggedness.  The  earthquake  had  trans 
formed  the  proudest  of  the  California  Spanish 
Mission  buildings  into  a  pile  of  desolation. 
San  Juan  was  never  reconstructed;  and  the  secu 
larization  completed  the  awful  devastation  by 


MISSION  TALES 

scattering  the  Indians,  the  herds,  and  the  grain. 
The  half-civilized  Indians  were  in  no  condition 
to  be  handed  over  to  the  new  parish  priests, 
who  were  without  homes  and  lands  to  provide 
for  them;  they  needed  greater  care  and  deeper 
teaching  than  these  simple  vicars  were  willing 
or  able  to  give. 

The  Padres,  who  had  journeyed  all  the 
way  from  Spain  to  teach  the  love  and  life 
of  Christ  to  these  aboriginal  men,  that  they 
might  be  brought  to  redemption,  grieved  their 
disappointed  hearts  out  to  find  that  after  all 
their  years  of  arduous  labor,  when  every  acre 
reflected  toil  and  success,  their  cherished  herds 
of  cattle,  acres  of  land,  and  thousands  of  neo 
phytes  were  separated  and  divided  into  small 
bands  without  leaders,  and  thus  allowed  to 

(54) 


SAN    JUAN     CAPISTRANO 


Ten 


had 


return  to  their  original  stat 
effected  the  complete  disorganization  and  retro 
gression  of  the  once  prosperous  Mission.  The 
spiritual  state  was  reflected  in  the  chaotic  pile 
that  occupied  the  site  of  the  once  noble  edifice. 

The  original  structure,  with  its  graceful 
arches  and  lofty  dome,  was  begun  February  2, 
1797,  and  on  the  seventh  of  September,  1806, 
Padre  Presidente  Tapis,  in  the  presence  of  curi 
ous  Indians  and  a  few  co-workers,  dedicated 
with  solemn  high  mass  the  splendid  temple  of 
stone  and  mortar.  In  less  than  twoscore  years 
the  faithful  workers  had  gathered  together  and 
baptized  more  than  four  thousand  persons; 
garnered  243,000  measures  of  grain;  and  at 
one  time  had  31,270  head  of  animals. 

On  this  day    the   eloquent  ruins  bore  silent 
(JJ) 


MISSION 


TALES 


evidence  of  past  glory ;  and  the  handful  of 
still  faithful  neophytes  attested  the  eternal  suc 
cess  of  the  Padres'  labors.  The  construction 
of  the  buildings  and  the  work  at  the  Mission 
were  done  by  the  Indians,  with  but  one  or 
two  Spanish  overseers  as  instructors.  It  was  a 
splendid  tribute  to  the  ability  of  the  Indian 
race;  they  had  learned  all  from  the  Padres. 
Grand  teachers  and  receptive  pupils ! 

Across  the  naked  hills  where  the  scanty 
vegetation  could  not  hide  the  gullied,  water- 
worn  ridges,  there  now  and  then  arose  clouds 
of  dust  that  gave  a  softening  touch  to  the 
glare  of  the  reflection  from  those  barren  hills 
in  the  noonday  sun.  Each  dust  cloud  an 
nounced  another  party  of  the  faithful  approach 
ing;  and  to  the  artistic  eyes  of  the  Padres, 


SAN    JUAN     CAPISTRANO 

each  cloud  mercifully  cast  a  veil  that  robbed 
Mother  Earth  of  her  severity;  and  through 
half-closed  eyes  the  good  men  saw  a  fitting 
background  for  the  tumbled  adobe  walls,  and 
the  beauty  of  the  picture  was  a  solace  for  their 
aching  hearts. 

Before  the  earthquake  the  cloisters  had  en 
trance  through  a  massive  gateway;  now  the 
quadrangle  was  an  open  heap  of  ruins,  wherein 
a  brindle  calf  was  staked.  As  the  beast  fretted 
at  the  end  of  its  rope,  a  Padre,  by  way  of  pre 
paring  for  the  coming  of  the  people,  led  the 
little  stranger  away  to  other  pastures. 

Already  many  had  arrived,  and  as  the 
shades  of  night  approached,  preparations  for 
camping  were  in  active  process,  and  the  usually 
desolate  quadrangle  became  a  scene  of  pictur- 

G7) 


MISSION 


TALES 


esque  activity.  A  great  camp-fire  lighted  up 
and  beautified  the  ruined  walls.  Grave  Indians 
and  gay  Mexicanos  met  in  sympathetic  har 
mony  on  mutual  grounds.  The  quaint  little 
adjoining  village  swarmed  with  life,  and  the 
dark-eyed  senoritas  and  barefooted,  chubby 
little  children  added  beauty  and  interest  to  the 
long  rows  of  low  adobe  buildings. 

Benito  had  come  early  and  was  now  search 
ing  for  his  friends  Juan  and  Tomas,  for  he 
had  need  of  them.  Late  in  the  waning  twi 
light  he  spied,  coming  over  the  soft  gray  hill, 
old  Pedro,  the  duenna,  and  the  charming 
Carina. 

Never  had  the  girl  appeared  so  radiant,  so 
beautiful.  Her  dark  olive  skin  was  flushed 
with  sun-kisses,  which  were  deepened  by  the 


^gagSS^sZe3®* 

M 


SAN     JUAN     CAPISTRANO 

rich  red  of  the  scarf  that  was  lightly  wound 
about  her  head  and  shoulders,  revealing  her 
throat  and  disclosing  the  rise  and  fall,  as  she 
fearlessly  sang  aloud  the  sacred  hymns  taught 
her  by  the  casual  visiting  Padres.  The  camp 
ers  were  silenced  by  the  sound  of  the  music. 
She  knew  not  that  her  voice  reached  out  on 
the  evening  air  and  that  all  were  listening. 

The  intensely  blue  sky,  the  solemn-faced 
sun  sinking  low  in  the  west,  and  the  soft, 
salted  breeze  floating  in  from  the  ocean,  sent 
a  deep  quiet  hush  to  close  the  day's  tumult, 
and  bring  back  again  to  the  quaint  little  ham 
let  its  usual  air  of  rest  and  repose. 

Nearer  and  nearer  the  rich  voice  came, 
until  the  words  fell  plainly  upon  the  ears  of 
the  waiting  people,  when,  as  with  one  accord, 

(50) 


MISSION  TALES 

they  rose  and  joined  in  the  evening  hymn. 
Lost  in  her  own  happiness  and  in  the  delight 
of  the  beautiful  evening,  Carina  heeded  not 
the  singing  throng,  but  advanced  with  her 
guardians,  thinking  that  she  had  arrived  just 
in  time  for  vespers.  From  the  village  Benito 
had  watched  the  girl's  approach  with  guarded 
care,  and  her  coming  impressed  him  more  than 
he  would  have  admitted. 

The  evening  was  spent  in  religious  ceremo 
nies,  chanting,  and  songs.  All  was  quiet;  the 
blue  sky  and  purple  hills  of  the  day  were 
turned  into  black,  and  all  the  rich  hues  were 
blotted  out  in  the  darkness.  Carina  sat  watch 
ing  and  waiting  for  some  sign  that  her  lover 
was  near.  In  her  heart  were  no  misgivings, 
but  she  had  the  reposeful  feeling  of  confidence 

«*>) 


SAN     JUAN     CAPISTRANO 

and  certainty  that  Benito  would  arrange  all 
matters  properly,  and  that  their  marriage  was 
at  hand.  An  oriole  sang  near  her  tent; 
sometimes  softly,  sometimes  almost  a  scream. 
Finally  she  smilingly  noticed  it  and  arose 
and  passed  out. 

The  good  duenna  felt  so  relieved  and  se 
cure  now  that  the  ungodly  Benito  was  not 
near,  that  she  was  already  sleeping  quietly, 
overcome  also  by  the  fatigue  of  the  journey. 

Carina  had  made  but  a  turn  outside 
the  old  ruins,  when  the  handsome  Benito 
threw  his  scrape  about  her  and  gathered  her 
closely  within  his  arms;  then  her  joy  was 
complete. 

"What  is  it,  Benito?  What  have  you 
done?" 


MISSION  TALES 

"Ah,  sweetheart,  I  could  not  find  Juan  or 
Tomas,  and  I  have  done  naught  save  come  to 
kiss  you  and  again  say  that  I  love  you.  I  will 
find  some  one  to  marry  us,  my  darling;  or 
say  but  the  word,  and  we  will  go  away  with 
out  it." 

Her  heart  fairly  stood  still!  Had  she 
heard  aright?  Had  he  said  it?  Had  he 
asked  her  to  go  without  marriage?  After  all, 
was  the  good  duenna  right?  Was  the  dear  one 
not  only  ungodly,  but  mean  and  base?  Carina 
felt  no  more  pleasure  or  joy  that  evening 
with  Benito,  and  was  content  to  seek  her  pallet 
soon.  She  was  quite  weary,  she  said,  in  truth 
but  half  knowing  that  the  cause  was  heart 
heaviness. 

Though    the  day  had    been  trying  and    the 
(62} 


I 


SAN     JUAN     CAPISTRANO 

journey  fatiguing,  the  girl  could  not  sleep. 
All  night  she  watched  the  voiceless  songs  of 
the  stars  or  framed  fancied  spectres  from  the 
shadows  cast  on  the  arches,  hoping  some  fairy- 
god  would  roll  the  vault  of  grim  doubt  from 
her  mind  and  place  her  love  back  on  its 
throne.  Her  heart  fluttered  and  ached.  Could 
it  be  that  Benito  would  do  her  a  wrong? 
Over  and  over  again  came  the  question,  with 
no  golden  thought  of  assurance  to  silence  the 
doubt.  She  must  be  true  to  herself.  The  du 
enna  was  right.  Only  once  more  would  she 
meet  him  in  secret,  and  then  she  would  tell 
him  her  doubts  and  decision.  Having  come 
to  this  conclusion,  she  slept. 

As    the  sun  rose,  it  was   her  voice    that  led 
the  morning  song,  as  it  filled  and  echoed  through 

(4r) 


MISSION  TALES 

the  fallen  arches  and  swelled  like  a  heavenly 
choir  the  happiness  of  sweetened  souls. 

All  day  the  Indians  rejoiced  that  glorious 
San  Juan  Capistrano  was  to  be  rebuilt,  rehabil 
itated,  reconsecrated.  Mass,  baptisms,  and  mar 
riages  were  performed  throughout  the  day.  The 
bells  were  gayly  rung,  and  the  old  chapel 
resounded  with  sweet  music. 

The  picturesque  cloisters  were  a  scene  to 
be  remembered,  as  the  Indians  knelt  with 
upturned  faces  to  receive  the  blessings  of  the 
faithful  Padres  and  teachers.  Evening  service 
attracted  all  the  villagers,  for  it  had  become 
known  that  the  popular  Benito's  sweetheart 
was  the  singer  who  led  the  assembled  choir. 

Benito  found  his  friends,  and  arranged  with 
them  that  two  swift  ponies  should  be  waiting 


SAN     JUAN     CAPISTRANO 

just  outside  the  ruined  walls  of  the  old  Mis 
sion.  Grown  bolder  with  the  many  praises  of 
Carina's  beauty  and  her  lovely  voice,  Benito 
dared  to  join  the  party  of  happy  young  peo 
ple  gathered  within  the  inner  garden  of  the 
Mission  for  vespers  ;  when  the  songs  began  he 
stood  in  the  shadow  of  the  arch  very  close  to 
Carina,  and  as  she  sang  he  blended  his  voice 
with  hers  in  such  perfect  harmony  that  even 
the  Padres  were  struck  with  the  heavenly  mu 
sic  that  the  lovers  made. 

As  the  last  notes  died  away  and  the  soft 
breezes  swept  over  Carina's  cheek,  she  looked 
into  Benito's  eyes  and  whispered, 

"Why,  Benito,  you  sang  the  words!" 
"Yes,  mia  carisima,  and   to-morrow  we  will 
publish  the  banns,"  he  said. 


IP 


MISSION  TALES 

Juan  and  Tomas  waited  long  for  Benito 
and  Carina,  for  they  knew  the  heart  of  the 
man  who  led  them.  They  did  not  learn  that 
Carina  had  won,  until  the  banns  were  an 
nounced  upon  the  following  morning. 

The  marriage  of  the  sweet  \  singers  was  the 
crowning  event  of  the  fiesta. 

The  bells  rang,  the  dusty  old  ruins  were  made 
glad  with  wild  blossoms,  and  blessings  were 
freely  offered  for  the  happiness  of  Carina,  and 
for  the  future  glory  and  resurrection  of  San 
Juan  Capistrano  Mission. 

"Speak  again,  O  Voice!  Come   again,  O  Light! 
And  wash  away  the  silence  of  the   Night." 


' 


The  Ride  of  the 


THE   RIDE  OF  THE 
NEOPHYTES 

IE!   hie  there!   awake,  ye  sons  of 

the  Mission! 
He  is  gone!     He  is  gone!     Our 

Padre  is  gone! 

Rise,  men,  and  ride  as  you  never  have   ridden! 
We  will  capture  the  thieves  and  take   back  our 

own. 
The    night  is  far  spent,  but   our    horse-flesh    is 

steel! 
Mount,  then,  and  away!" 

^     Thus  shouted  a  stalwart,  lithe  Indian  boy 

When    he    learned    the    Republic's    decree    was 
enacted, 


MISSION  TALES 

That  good  Father  Peyri  of  San  Luis  Rey 
Had  been  torn  from  his  slumbers  and  hastened 
to  Spain. 

With  concerted   arrangements  and  craft  beyond 

credit, 

Echeandia  ordered  a  messenger  sent 
To  each  of  the  twenty-one  Missions, 
Each  band  to  arrive  at  the  same  hour  of  night, 
Without  warning  to  quietly  snuff  out  the  Light 
Of  Redemption, 
And  claim  the  broad  lands,  the  great  herds,  and 

vast  wealth 

Through  preemption — 

The  priests  to  be  taken  and  sent  back  to  Spain, 
Their  flocks  cast  adrift  and  disbanded, 
Each  neophyte  given  a  wee  bit  of  land 


RIDE    OF     THE    NEOPHYTES 

To  work  and  to  eke  out  existence; 

The  grand   Mission   walls   to   be   carelessly  left 

For  ages  to  seam  into  beauty, 

With  picturesque  chisel  the  sun,  wind,  and  rain 

Make  glorious  ruins  to  Echeandia's  shame. 

Heaven's    festoon    of    stars     watched    o'er    the 

Mission 
Where    trusting,  confiding,  and    peaceful    there 

slept 

A  thousand  bold  hearts 
Who  unwittingly  let  their  Padre  be  stolen, 
Because  in  their  slumbers  they  knew  not  the 
Father  was  taken. 
One    watchful     neophyte    heard    faint    muffled 

sounds 
As  of  some  one  approaching  in   secret; 


MISSION 


TALES 


Then  silence  a  while. 

When  the  well-beloved  voice  of  his  Master  arose 

On  the  midnight  air  in  a  tear-laden  prayer 

And  a  pure  benediction. 

Stunned  into  inaction,  the   ignorant  boy  lay 

With  wide-op.en  eyes  in  the  darkness. 

Could  it  be  that  the  Padre  was  leaving  for  aye? 

Were  the  fast-flying  feet  of  the  horses  a 

Mournful  reveille  that  echoed  farewell? 

Not  daring  to  rise  till  the  first  rays  of  dawn, 

He  then   tremblingly  rose   and   looked   for  the 

Padre : 

He  was  gone,  and  all  his  belongings. 
The  true  loving  heart  had  aright  read  the  mystery, 
The    whispered    instructions,   "Take    back   the 

Padre." 
The  boy  ran  as  one  wild   through   the  village; 


ri*/ 


n\ 


RIDE    OF     THE    NEOPHYTES 


He  shouted,  he  called,  "  To  the  rescue ! 

He    is    gone,  our   loved    one!     Our    Father's 

vili 

been  taken! 
Mount  and  away !  " 


In  far  less  time  than  it  takes  here  to  tell  it, 
One  hundred  excited  men  were  in  action, 
One  hundred  dark  faces,  set  and  defiant, 
Guided  one  hundred  stout  hands  in  tightening 

cinches, 
While  one   hundred    brave   hearts  were  vowing 

to  bring 
Back  the  Padre. 

The  clinking  of  bits  and  the  creaking  of  leather 
Were  sounds  that  denoted  the  speed  of  the  rider. 
The  neophytes  pressed  themselves  close  to  the 

saddles, 

(73) 


£P^^3flPJ$2?-*^V.£ 


^vir 


MISSION  TALES 

Lay  prone  on  their  ponies  and  patted  their  necks 

With  caressing  and  loving  affection, 

They  impelled  them  to  fly,  to  speed  to  the 

rescue, 

"  On,  on  !     Our  Father,  our  Padre 's  in  danger." 
With   nostrils  wide    spreading   the   lithe    ponies 

weighed 

Toward  the  ground  in  mighty  exertion. 
Ten  miles  were  passed,  and  the  thick  cloud  of 

dust 

Had  no  time  to  repose  on  the  neophytes' 
Shoulders,  as   they   sped   in   their  flight   to   the 

shore 
To    recapture,  to    take    back,  the   core    of   the 

Mission. 
Ten    more  were   passed  and  the   faintest   took 

courage. 

(7*0 


RIDE    OF    THE    NEOPHYTES 

The   bright   morning   sun    now   stood    high   in 

the  east, 

* 
The  Indians  sped  on  in  silent  distress. 

Could  they  make  it? 

Could  the  Padre  be  rescued  and  all  flee  to  the 

mountains  ? 

Fierce  thoughts  arose : 

They  would  carry  the    Padre   far  back  to  the 
Gay  hunting-ground, 
Where  no  one  could  find  them,  the   Father  in 

safety. 

Fierce  affection  cried  out,  and  from  time  to  time 
Found  expression, 
"They  robbed  us;   he  is   ours.     The   heartless 

deceivers ! 

They  gave  him  and  then  have  retaken." 
A  fierce  yell  as  of  yore,  "Ha,  hie  to  the  shore! 


MISSION  TALES 

Rescue  our  Padre  and  take  back  our  own." 
Then  snorting  and  blowing  and  fast-flying  feet 
Told    the    grand    effort    that    horse-flesh    was 
making. 

Embarcadero  Diego  d'  Alcala 

Lay  far  to  the  southwest  of  San  Luis   Rey, 

And  to  that  port  had  Spam's  highway  marauder 

Taken  good  Father  Antonio  Peyri. 

The  Pocahontas  lay  out  in  the  bay; 

Already  her  anchor  was  weighing. 

On  deck  stood  the  Padre  in  anguish  of  heart, 

In  tears  unrestrained  and  unnoticed, 

His  thoughts  with  his  Mission,  his    heart  with 

his  God, 

He  silently  prayed  for  forgiveness  and  strength 
To  be  reconciled  now  to  departure. 


I 

I 


RIDE    OF    THE    NEOPHYTES 

Without  murmur  or  plaint,  in  silent  farewell, 
With  sorrow  and  saintly  submission 
The  good  Father  meekly  bowed  his  gray  head 
In  concession  to  man. 

The    full    rays    of  sun  lined  the    hills    in    the 

east, 
And   revealed    to    the    Padre  a  thick   cloud    of 

dust 

On  El  Camino   Real  of  the  Mission. 
He    watched    it,  but    saw    not;     his    heart    lay 

beyond  it. 

The  clank  of  the  anchor  chain  fell  on  the  air; 
The  good  Padre  shuddered  and  leaned    toward 

the  rail 
As    the    huge   vessel    kissed   the   waves    of  the 

ocean. 

(77) 


i 


MISSION 


TALES 


' 


i 


Now    his    eyes    saw    again    the    dust    on    the 

road, 

And  he  heard  a  faint  cry  as  if  children  were 
Wafting  an  angel's  good-bye  in  the  morning. 
The  sound  grew  in  volume;  the  dust  formed 

to  riders; 
A    shout    rent    the    air    that    made    the    crew 

tremble. 

Wild    Indians    they,  who  rode  like  the  demon, 
They    bent    to    the    saddles,  lay   flat    on    their 

ponies, 
They  shrieked  and  they  cursed  like  the  wildest 

of  heathen, 

Unmindful  of  all,  save  the  unanchored  vessel. 
Down  to  the  waters  leaped  uncontrolled  horses : 
But  the  riders'  wild  fury  was  spent  in  the 
Vision  before  them. 


WILD  INDIANS  THEY,  WHO  RODE  LIKE  THE  DEMON 


RIDE    OF    THE    NEOPHYTES 

Padre  Antonio  Peyri  stood  on  the  deck 

Of  the  slow-moving  vessel.     His  face  shone 

With  resplendence, 

Heaven's  glory  reflected  direct  through  the 

Rays  of  the  sun. 

With  hands  extended  in  mute  benediction 

He  calmed  the  turbulent  souls  of  the  men. 

Dismounting,   they   knelt  on   the  shore   of  the 

ocean, 
The    dark    bending    forms    told    well    to    the 

Padre, 
"Thy  work  is  complete." 


Two    boldest   young   hearts    sprang    free    from 

their  horses, 
And  plunged   through    the   surf  to   go    to    the 

Father ; 

(79} 


||&3^^  — ^  S3, 

"" 


•<iM§^A*m 


mm 


f  :-.W' 


MISSION  TALES 

The    waves     tossed    them    back    upon    sharp, 

cruel  rocks. 
Where    the    bodies    were    bruised.      And   with 

hearts  fairly  broken 
They   were    rescued    and   cared   for    by   fondest 

of  brothers 
Whose  warm  breath   and   quick   knead,   coaxed 

them  back  into  life. 

These  two   Indian  boys,  Agapito  and  Pablo, 
Followed  the  Father  back  unto  Rome, 
Where  they  studied  and  gained  erudition. 
Years  slowly  rolled  by. 

Those  neophytes  came  yet  again  to  the  Mission, 
And  now  preach  the  gospel  in  San  Luis  Rey, 
In  the  place  of  the  true  revered,  most  beloved 
Of  all  Fathers, 

The  sanctified  Padre  Antonio  Peyri. 

(*>) 


MATILIJA 

N  the  upper  canyon  of  the  Ojai 
Valley,  "the  Indians'  nest," 
Chief  Matilija  had  long  ago 
built  his  lodge,  and  there  he 
and  his  people  of  many  tribes 
and  sub-tribes  dwelt  in  freedom,  harmony,  and 
happiness. 

The  Matilija  canyon  was  grown  dense  with 
sycamore,  cottonwood,  oak,  elder,  and  willow 
trees ;  and  the  steep  walls  stood  upright  a 
thousand  feet  above  a  sloping,  broken  wall 
of  crumbling  quartz  that  supported  straggling 
patches  of  brush  and  white  sage.  The  fissured 
walls  sent  forth  numerous  springs  of  sparkling, 

Cfr) 


m 


MISSION  TALES 

delicious  water,  and  down  the  bed  of  the  can 
yon  raced  the  white  foam-steeds  of  the  moun 
tain  storms  on  their  course  to  the  great  Pacific, 
fifteen  miles  away.  By  the  side  of  warm  heal 
ing  springs  of  sulphur  and  other  minerals,  lived 
the  Matilijas  ever  since  their  forefathers  had 
travelled  from  the  far  east  that  they  might  live 
where  the  great  red  sun  sank  into  the  sea;  and 
that  time  was  so  long  ago  it  was  not  known 
to  any  seer  of  the  tribe. 

From  the  surrounding  hills  and  mountains 
the  Indians  gathered  abundant  stores  of  herbs 
and  nuts  to  keep  their  caches  always  full 
to  bursting;  over  the  hills  roamed  great  herds 
of  deer  and  antelope;  and  plenty  of  small 
game,  such  as  squirrels,  gophers,  coyotes,  rac 
coons,  and  skunks,  as  well  as  birds  and  fishes, 


MA     T   I    L    I   J    A 

were  there  for  their  use.  From  the  plains 
beyond  they  brought  the  large  locusts  and 
grasshoppers,  which  they  snared  in  their  nets 
and  baskets  to  be  later  impaled  on  the  ends 
of  sharp  sticks  and  toasted  by  the  great  camp- 
fire,  while  they  told  the  stories  of  the  chase 
and  the  gathering.  Among  their  choicest  deli 
cacies  were  buttercup  seeds  beaten  into  flour,  or 
young  tender  shoots  of  the  yucca  and  stalks 
of  the  wild  rhubarb;  they  had  wild  cherries 
and  elder-berries  and  the  small  gray  chia  seed 
of  the  thistle  plant. 

In  their  freedom  and  plenty  they  were 
happy  and  comfortable.  They  did  even  justice 
one  to  another,  for  their  standard  of  honesty 
and  charity  was  high.  They  worshipped  the 
Sun  as  a  Great  Spirit  that  watched  carefully 


MISSION  TALES 

over  them;  they  revered  their  elders  and  cap 
tains,  and  the  children  obeyed  their  parents. 
They  mourned  for  their  dead,  and  buried  rarely 
beautiful  baskets  with  them  as  tokens  of  re 
gard  and  as  material  assistance  to  the  departed 
in  the  unknown  land  whither  they  travelled. 

To-day  the  tribe  of  Matilija  sat  waiting  in 
unquiet  rest.  Many  of  their  people  had  been 
enticed  away  to  the  Mission  below  at  San 
Buenaventura,  and  many  more  had  been  las 
soed  and  hauled  thither,  while  they  struggled 
and  pleaded  for  their  freedom. 

Their  watch  at  the  Mission  had  sent  word 
that  another  raid  was  about  to  be  made,  and 
that  he  would  send  further  particulars;  and  he 
advised  that  the  chief  should  station  swiftest 

runners    to    carry    the    message,   that    the    tribe 

(86) 


i 


MA    T   I   L    I   J    A 


might  not  this  time  be  taken  wholly  unawares, 
for  the  soldiers  would  come  on  fast  horses. 

Quietly  and  unceasingly  they  watched  the 
mouth  of  the  canyon  to  catch  the  first  glimpse 
of  any  who  entered.  On  the  top  of  the  hill 
above  them  the  outwatch  sprang  to  his  feet 
shouting:  "He  comes!  he  comes!  he  is  run 
ning  the  swiftest !  The  message  comes  swift !  " 

"  Clear  every  cache,  bury  every  acorn,  every 
chia,  all  spat'lum,  all  meat,  —  leave  not  one 
thing  for  the  pale-faced  thieves  and  robbers 
to  destroy ! "  cried  the  chief. 

As  he  uttered  the  last  word,  the  runner's 
shout  was  heard  as  he  called,  "  They  come, 
they  come !  Fly,  fly,  fly  !  Here  come  soldiers, 
vaquero !  They  come  like  she-devils !  Lose 
no  time!" 


MISSION  TALES 

When  he  entered  the  camp  he  repeated  care 
fully  the  message  given  to  him  by  the  last 
runner;  it  was  the  order  given  by  the  Padre 
to  the  captain  of  the  twenty  dragoons:  "Take 
much,  and  if  necessary  stay  long.  This  time 
we  will  hunt  them  to  death;  they  shall  do  no 
more  harm — these  rebellious  heathen/' 

In  the  name  of  Christ,  how  could  such 
things  be?  But  they  were  even  so. 

When  each  hunted  Indian  had  hastily  gath 
ered  food,  skins,  and  water  gourd,  they  scat 
tered  like  a  flock  of  frightened  quail  with  only 
the  mother  cry,  "Come,  child,  come!"  to  be 
heard  from  among  them.  A  few  small  caves 
proved  shelter  for  those  who  could  reach  them  ; 
the  youths  ran  and  sought  out  vantage  places 
to  pick  off  with  poisoned  arrows  such  of  the 


MA    T   I   L    I   J    A 

riders  as  dared  follow  them.  The  camp-fire  still 
smouldered  when  the  soldiers  rode  through  the 
upper  canyon  and  halted  at  the  last  lodge  of 
the  tribe. 

"And  so  the  red  devils  are  gone  again. 
Well,  each  man  to  a  bush,  and  let  us  beat  out 
their  brains  or  lash  them  to  our  saddles. 
That's  your  order!"  Relentlessly  and  merci 
lessly  the  squad  of  soldiers  carried  out  that 
order.  For  days  they  beat  every  bush  and 
battered  each  hollow  tree  or  poked  under  every 
projecting  rock;  here  and  there  they  tracked 
women  and  children,  who  through  helplessness 
and  fatigue  gave  up  the  struggle  and  were  cor 
ralled  to  be  sent  down  to  the  Mission.  One 
by  one  the  men  were  taken  or  killed;  and  after 
a  week's  hunting  and  scouting  the  twenty  sol- 

(89} 


MISSION  TALES 

diers  had  captured  almost  the  entire  remnant 
of  that  proud  and  once  numerous  tribe,  whose 
only  fault  was  to  want  their  freedom. 

In  revenge  for  these  oft-repeated  raids,  the 
Indians  had  sometimes  taken  beef  cattle  and 
aided  other  Indians  to  escape  the  Mission 
thraldom.  They  had  been  accused  of  rebel 
lion  and  assault  on  the  Mission.  Be  that  as 
it  may,  no  assault  by  the  Matilijas  could  com 
pare  with  this  hunting  and  slaying  of  these 
defenceless  people.  More  than  two-thirds  of 
the  entire  band  were  killed,  and  all  women  and 
children  that  could  be  found  were  taken  cap 
tives  to  the  Mission.  Each  soldier  returned 
with  a  squaw  tied  to  his  saddle  and  with  chil 
dren,  too  small  to  walk,  lashed  to  the  horses; 
and  in  front  were  herded  and  driven  the  rest 

(00} 


MA    T   I   L    I   J    A 

of  the  subjugated  and  frightened  creatures.  One, 
two,  and  even  three  trips  and  assaults  were 
made. 

Each  time  when  the  soldiers  left  the  can 
yon  to  return  to  the  Mission  with  their  pitiful 
freight,  the  few  that  had  escaped  capture  or 
death  came  back  to  the  valley  and  buried  the 
dead.  Carefully  they  searched  for  the  bodies, 
and  when  found  they  tenderly  carried  them  far 
up  the  mountain-side  by  way  of  stone  steps 
that  had  long  been  hewn  in  the  solid  rock  and 
then  allowed  to  be  overgrown  with  vines  lest 
some  stranger  should  find  the  burying-place  of 
their  dead.  When  the  last  body  of  their  slain 
had  been  raised  to  the  secluded  little  spot,  the 
mourners  prepared  for  the  burial.  Moaning  and 
wailing  could  be  heard  throughout  the  entire 


MISSION 


TALES 


night;  the  second  and  third  nights  the  same; 
and  then  the  friends  reverently  folded  the 
hands  over  the  breasts,  wrapped  the  dead  in 
their  windings,  and  bound  them  from  head  to 
foot  —  ready  for  rest.  They  dug  for  them 
graves  and  tenderly  laid  them  therein;  then  they 
brought  seeds  and  baskets  from  the  hidden 
storehouse  below  and  placed  them  also  within 
the  graves;  finally  they  filled  in  the  graves  and 
returned  to  their  hiding-places. 

Matilija's  daughter  escaped  the  first  raid, 
but  was  captured  upon  the  second  one.  She 
pleaded  and  begged  for  her  freedom,  and  the 
soldiers  almost  yielded  to  her  cry;  but  the 
captain  heard,  and  saw,  and  ordered  the  proud 
beauty  to  be  lashed  to  a  guard  and  immedi 
ately  despatched  to  the  Mission. 


MA    T   I   L    I   J    A 

Some  say  it  was  four  years  that  the  Indian 
girl  dwelt  at  San  Buenaventura  Mission.  She 
was  studious,  and  learned  much  that  was  use 
ful  and  well  for  her  to  know.  She  greatly 
enjoyed  the  new  fruits  of  the  garden  —  the  ap 
ples,  pears,  plums,  and  figs;  and  daily  she 
pleaded  to  be  allowed  to  tend  the  young  plants 
and  herbs,  that  she  might  breathe  the  free  air 
of  the  open  and  drink  of  the  mist  of  the  sea. 

She  could  sing  like  a  bird,  but  here  at  the 
Mission  no  one  ever  heard  her  voice;  like  a 
captive  bird  she  was  silent.  Her  one  great 
desire  and  longing  was  for  freedom. 

She  heard  no  tidings  of  her  father  or  of 
her  lover,  and  she  gladly  spent  the  long  weary 
time  in  these  new  occupations,  that  she  might 
forget,  and  also  that  the  Padres  might  forget 

(Of.) 


nil 


MISSION  TALES 

that  she  was  restless  and  longing  for  the  hills. 
For  she  intended  to  go.  She  did  not  even 
know  whether  her  father  and  lover  lived ;  she 
only  knew  that  they  had  not  been  brought  to 
the  Mission. 

Many  husbands  were  offered  her  by  the 
Padres,  but  she  contemptuously  declined  all. 
She  did  her  duty,  and  they  could  demand 
nothing  further.  However,  she  found  that  the 
only  possible  way  of  escape  lay  in  becoming  a 
"trusty,"  and  though  the  process  was  slow,  the 
time  as  it  passed  otherwise  was  slower.  She 
became  more  studious  and  even  religious,  and 
lastly  she  entered  the  choir.  There  she  sang 
and  led  the  singing;  and  when  the  Miserere  was 
chanted  by  the  beautiful  Indian  girl,  even  the 
Padres  felt  that  the  lament  was  too  heartfelt 

(<¥) 


MA    T  I    L    I   J    A 

to  be  all  religious,  and  would  forthwith  become 
more  watchful  lest  the  bird  should  take  flight. 

One  day  a  Matilija  youth  lingered  near 
the  door  of  the  chapel,  and  as  his  chiePs 
daughter  passed  he  whispered  a  word  to  her 
that  brought  crimson  blushes  to  her  face  and 
then  left  it  the  color  of  ashes. 

"They  live,  I  have  seen   them,"   he  said. 

Her  one  look  of  gratitude  repaid  the  boy 
for  his  nights  of  swift  running  and  for  the 
many  lashes  he  had  received  for  his  wilful  and 
persistent  absence  from  the  Mission  when  sent 
on  errands;  but  his  peculiarly  earnest  repent 
ance  had  each  time  gained  his  reinstatement 
as  messenger.  Also  he  was  the  swiftest  of 
runners,  and  the  Padres  could  not  well  dispense 
with  his  services.  They  never  knew  that  it 

Car) 


m 


MISSION  TALES 

was  he  who  carried  the  fatal  message  to  the 
Matilijas.  And  now  she,  the  daughter  and 
sweetheart,  knew  that  her  father  and  her  lover 
lived  and  awaited  her  coming.  Many  days 
passed  ere  the  boy  had  an  opportunity  to  tell 
her  that  they  were  still  in  the  Ojai,  "the  nest," 
not  far  from  the  spring. 

The  Indians  never  willingly  leave  their 
buried  dead  and  travel  too  far  away  for  the 
departed  spirits  to  watch  daily  over  their  lives 
and  guide  them  in  their  trials  and  be  with 
them  in  their  joys.  For  this  reason  the  new 
camp  of  the  remaining  few  Matilijas  was  near 
the  spring  and  also  near  their  burying-ground 
—  the  spring  that  had  for  centuries  given  their 
forefathers  life  and  health,  and  the  burial  plot 
where  the  spirits  of  their  dead  kept  watch. 


MA    T   I    L    I   J    A 

Weeks  followed  before  the  girl  found  the 
gate  of  the  quadrangle  ajar  and  the  night  dark 
enough  for  her  to  pass  without  being  detected. 
The  hour  for  all  neophytes  to  be  in  bed  was 
far  past,  and  the  girl  walked  quietly  out  as  if 
sent  on  a  mission.  Her  escape  was  not  discov 
ered  until  her  voice  was  missed  from  the  morn 
ing  music. 

When  the  Mission  Indians  learned  of  the 
girl's  flight,  there  was  a  rebellion  so  fierce  and 
so  serious  that  not  one  soldier  might  be  spared 
from  the  Mission  to  look  for  the  fugitive. 
The  Indians  could  not  help  her  otherwise,  but 
in  this  they  gave  her  God-speed,  and  thus  she 
had  the  advantage  of  several  days  wherein  to 
make  good  her  escape. 

For  two  days  she  wandered    over   hills  and 


MISSION  TALES 

through  thickets,  avoiding  the  trails  and  yet 
searching  for  some  sign  of  Indian  camps.  She 
subsisted  upon  seeds  and  herbs,  but  thirst  kept 
her  near  certain  places;  and  not  until  the  even 
ing  of  the  third  day,  when  sitting  against  a 
fallen  tree  on  the  top  of  a  mountain,  weary  and 
thirsty,  she  closed  her  eyes  to  rest  and  consider 
the  outcome  of  her  flight.  How  long  she  sat, 
she  knew  not,  but  when  her  eyes  opened  she 
beheld  in  the  canyon  beneath  her  a  small  camp- 
fire  with  white  curling  smoke  as  if  just  lighted. 
Arising,  she  said:  "I  will  go  to  the  camp, 
whether  they  be  friend  or  foe."  As  she  cau 
tiously  neared  the  fire,  a  face  was  outlined 
against  the  glow,  and  she  immediately  recog 
nized  her  father,  and  ran  with  outstretched 
arms,  crying,  "I  have  come,  I  have  come!" 


MA    T   I    L    I   J    A 

Her  lover  was  there,  as  a  son  to  her  father, 
for  her  brothers  were  all  dead. 

She  told  of  her  life  at  the  Mission,  and 
especially  the  persistence  with  which  they  en 
treated  her  to  take  a  husband,  offering  first, 
her  choice  of  the  Indians,  then  of  the  soldiers; 
even  Mexican  Dons  had  been  considered  by 
the  zealous  Padres,  but  to  all  the  commands 
and  entreaties  she  had  one  reply — no. 

Her  father  arranged  at  once  for  her  mar 
riage  with  the  choice  of  her  heart,  for  there 
was  nothing  now  left  for  chief  Matilija  but 
the  happiness  of  his  returned  daughter.  Feel 
ing  themselves  somewhat  secure  in  the  little 
secluded  spot,  they  prepared  for  the  dance  and 
festivities  that  form  the  marriage  ceremony. 
Gifts  from  the  few  members  of  the  families 

(99} 


MISSION 


TALES 


of  each  of  the  contracting  parties  were  ex 
changed.  Seeds  and  money  were  showered. 

The  bride  was  gallantly  and  lovingly  raised 
in  the  strong  arms  of  her  nearest  relative,  and 
he  danced  toward  the  lodge  of  the  bridegroom, 
while  the  overjoyed  father  scattered  seeds  before 
the  girl,  that  happiness  and  plenty  might  fol 
low  her  always. 

They  sang  and  they  danced,  and  the  little 
procession  was  well-nigh  at  the  door  of  the 
lodge,  when  a  volley  of  musketry  fired  from 
the  mountain-side  mowed  down  the  entire 
party  save  Matilija's  daughter.  The  Indian  brave 
bearing  the  girl  received  a  bullet  and  fell, 
covering  her  completely  with  his  robe.  Before 
the  soldiers  gained  the  little  camp  the  girl  had 
disappeared;  yet  they  knew  that  they  had  seen 

(700) 


MA    T   I    L    I   J    A 

her,  and  were  loath  to  return  without  "her4  or- 
to  give  up  the  chase.  Night  coming  on,  they 
were  compelled  to  depart;  and  when  the  last 
sound  of  retreating  footfalls  was  ended,  the 
girl  came  from  beneath  a  projecting  rock  and 
began  to  search  among  the  victims  for  any 
signs  of  life.  No  one  moved,  and  with  awe- 
stricken  heart  she  bent  over  the  beloved  form 
of  her  father;  alas,  his  brave  soul  had  passed 
into  the  great  beyond.  From  one  to  another 
the  lonely  girl  passed  until  she  came  to  her 
lover.  She  knelt  down  beside  him,  softly 
crying,  "Cocopah,  my  beloved,  my  husband." 
Though  he  did  not  hear  her,  she  saw  that  he 
was  alive,  but  with  a  ghastly  and  terrible 
wound  in  his  side. 

She   soon   found   that   he  was   the   only  one 

(101} 


MISSION  TALES 

living.  She  gathered  him  in  her  arms  and 
carried  him  a  short  distance;  again  she  carried 
him,  and  again,  and  again.  Thus  she  placed 
him  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  where  she  could 
watch  for  any  returning  soldiers,  and  where  he 
would  be  safe  should  they  come.  She  brought 
hot  and  cold  water  from  the  sulphur  springs 
below,  that  their  healing  gift  might  restore 
him.  In  the  ever  stilled  and  hushed  camp 
below  she  found  a  small  bundle  of  yerba  mansa 
to  bind  to  the  wound;  she  gathered  the  great 
datura  blossoms,  that  the  loss  of  blood  should 
be  balanced  by  their  stimulant  power.  In  the 
morning  she  searched  amid  the  tall  grasses  for 
the  bright  little  pink  flower,  the  canchelagua, 
that  it  might  aid  her  with  its  cooling  powers 
to  allay  the  fever  which  had  come.  Carefully 

(102} 


I 


GO     Z 

DC     O 
a     H 

O   w 
>    ps 

1-3 

3  " 


MA    T   I   L    I   J    A 

she  watched  over  him  and  soothed  him,  but  he 
died;  and  with  his  spirit  went  the  love  dream 
of  the  fairest  of  all  the  Matilija  maidens. 

Years  passed,  and  a  stranger  mounted  the 
hill  to  gather  the  great  white  blossoms  that 
crowned  the  crest.  He  found  that  they  guard 
ed  the  grave  of  two  lovers.  Kind  nature  had 
woven  the  choicest  of  shrouds  about  the  young 
form  of  the  brave  Indian  girl.  The  wealth  of 
the  blossoms  enveloped  the  sleeper,  and  no 
irreverent  hand  dared  to  pluck  them  away,  lest 
the  fair  soul  reflected  in  the  white  poppy  leaves 
should  flee  from  the  earth  and  leave  barren 
the  Ojai,  the  fair  nest.  So,  even  so,  the  foot 
steps  of  the  stranger  retreated  and  left  Matilija's 
Poppy  like  sweet  silent  music  to  guard  the 
flower-rimmed  grave. 


m 


Conceficwn  Ague 11  a 


CONCEPCION   AGUELLA 


m 


N  the  great  bleak  land  of  Ah- 
lak-shak,  where  the  White 
Spirit  clothes  the  earth  in 
snow  for  more  than  three- 
fourths  of  the  long,  dreary 
time;  where  the  people  dwell  in  huts  made  of 
eternal  snow,  and  line  the  huts  with  skins  of 
the  seal  and  otter  in  order  to  shield  their  chil 
dren  from  the  harsh  touch  of  the  White  Hand, 
— in  this  land  there  came  one  Winter  longer 
and  more  bleak  than  all  other  Winters. 

The  blubber  and  the  whale-oil,  the  sea-lion, 
the  dried  salmon,  and  the  game  flesh  were  all 
gone.  The  worthless  dog  had  long  since  paid 


V 


sea 


MISSION  TALES 

its  tribute  to  the  vampire  Want,  and  even  the 
pet  family  dog  had  passed  along  the  same  road. 
Hunger  and  starvation  dulled  the  little  sense  of 
humanity  that  those  people  of  the  frozen  region 
ever  had,  and  many  were  the  human  bones 
to  be  seen  bleaching  on  the  vast  snow-fields ; 
and  who  could  say  whether  these  as  well  as 
the  family  pets  had  not  been  gnawed  clean  and 
white  ere  they  found  their  last  resting-place 
upon  the  snow.  Such  were  the  conditions  in 
the  Winter  of  1805-06  in  the  inland  of  Alaska, 
and  little  better,  indeed,  were  the  conditions  at 
the  seaport  of  the  isle-bound  bay  of  Sitka. 

Here  the  great  Russian  Fur  Traders'  and 
Seal  Catchers'  Company  had  its  headquarters. 
Here  many  a  strong  man,  this  Winter,  chased 
the  gaunt  forms  of  Death  and  Starvation  as 


CONCEPCION      A  GUELLA 

they  stalked  hand  in  hand  about  the  village, 
plying  without  pity  their  hideous  trade;  some 
times  Crime  or  Murder  induced  the  men  to 
turn  aside  and  help  Death  to  catch  his 
victims. 

One  man  alone  watched  these  terrible  scenes 
with  a  set,  determined  face.  He  vowed  that 
permanent  relief  should  come  ere  another  Win 
ter,  or  he  would  die  in  the  effort  to  bring  it. 
This  man  was  Nikolai  Petrovich  Rezanof, 
Chamberlain  to  the  Czar  and  plenipotentiary 
of  the  Russian  American  Company.  In  June 
of  1805,  Prince  Rezanof  had  come  to  Sitka 
to  investigate  the  general  conditions  of  the 
country.  The  lack  of  all  comforts  for  the 
people  and  the  uncertainty  of  a  proper  food 
supply  were  matters  of  deepest  concern  to 


MISSION  T  'A    L    E    S 

him.  Two  provision  ships  had  failed  to  ar 
rive  in  port.  One  had  been  wrecked,  and  the 
other  was  long  overdue. 

The  Summer  passed,  and  the  long  Winter 
closed  in  early.  Cold  was  followed  by  bitter 
est  cold,  and  storm  after  storm  shut  the  col 
ony  off  from  outside  assistance;  daily  strong 
men  were  dying  of  scurvy,  exposure,  hunger, 
and  want;  and  the  little  colony  grew  rapidly 
less  and  less,  until  it  numbered  scarce  two 
hundred,  with  the  provisions  reduced  to  such 
a  degree  that  there  was  only  about  enough 
left  to  feed  them  properly  for  a  few  weeks. 

When  matters  were  at  this  desperate  pass, 
the  little  ship  Juno,  an  American  vessel,  under 
the  command  of  Captain  Wolfe,  came  into 
port,  and  Governor  Baranof  gladly  purchased 

Caw.) 


CONCEPCldN      AGUELLA 

the  entire  cargo,  paying  eight  thousand  dollars 
therefor;  but  he  would  probably  have  paid 
double  that  amount,  or,  nothing  loath,  would 
have  confiscated  all,  had  there  been  any  dis 
position  on  the  captain's  part  not  to  dispose 
of  his  cargo,  so  great  was  the  distress. 

Immediately  the  little  ship  was  turned  back 
into  the  troubled  waters  of  the  Pacific,  its  nose 
turned  southward,  with  the  port  of  Yerba 
Buena  (now  San  Francisco)  as  its  destination. 
This  idea  of  going  to  ask  help  or  seek  trade 
of  the  Spaniards  of  California  was  like  going 
to  sea  in  a  tub, —  it  carried  the  same  uncertainty 
of  success,  the  same  assurance  of  danger.  For 
the  law  of  the  Spaniards  of  the  Pacific  for 
bade  all  trade  with  foreigners.  But,  loaded 
with  an  alluring  cargo  of  furs,  Rezanof  and  his 


MISSION 


TALES 


m* 


faithful  companion,  Dr.  Langsdorff,  set  sail  in 
the  JunOy  and  in  the  teeth  of  the  biting 
Winter  wind  struggled  south  toward  the  land 
of  sun  and  flowers. 

The  Russians  having  long  contemplated  es 
tablishing  a  post  in  California,  Prince  Rezanof 
decided  that  now  was  an  opportune  time  to 
make  the  preliminary  investigations.  The  pri 
vations  and  sufferings  of  this  Winter  deter 
mined  him  to  take  this  immediate  step  toward 
permanent  relief.  During  the  long  and  trying 
voyage  he  laid  his  plans.  While  he  himself 
should  conduct  the  exchange  of  the  cargo  for 
provisions,  he  intended  that  a  party  should  be 
landed  at  Bodega  Bay,  a  port  well  known  to 
pirates  and  chance  whalers,  there  to  establish  a 
post,  if  the  conditions  were  possible.  Bodega 

(112) 


CONCEPCION      AGUELLA 

was    separated    from    Yerba    Buena    by    hostile 
Indians,  as  well  as  mountainous  land. 

At  Yerba  Buena  the  Spaniards  had  long 
expected  the  advent  .of  the  Russians,  the  fa 
mous  navigators  who  had  rounded  the  world. 
They  often  spoke  of  the  Russian  fleet,  the 
Russian  squadron,  when  it  should  sail  into  the 
bay  of  Yerba  Buena  on  a  complimentary  and 
friendly  visit;  so  who  of  these  would  have 
thought  that  the  little  white  sails  of  the  Juno, 
as  it  defiantly  ran  past  the  guns  of  the  fort, 
bore  the  much  vaunted  Russians  to  the  west 
ern  port  of  Spain.  Made  bold  by  desperation, 
the  Juno  weighed  anchor  only  when  clear  of 
the  Spanish  guns,  and  then  silently  waited  to 
be  received.  The  reception  was  akin  to  the 
land  the  ship  hailed  from — cold  and  bleak. 


MISSION  TALES 

The  pomp-loving  Spaniards  were  disappoint 
ed.  Young  Alferez  Luis  Agiiella,  son  of  the 
Commandante  of  the  port,  with  an  escort  came 
down  to  the  shore,  and  after  a  most  formal 
interview  and  impromptu  explanation  on  the 
part  of  Rezanof  as  to  the  size  of  the  "fleet," 
an  invitation  was  extended  to  the  Russian  en 
voy  and  his  officers  to  dine  at  the  presidio. 

Even  the  great  stress  of  need  did  not 
cause  the  Russian  diplomat  to  broach  the  sub 
ject  of  trade  or  colony  upon  this  visit,  nor  the 
next,  nor  for  many  thereafter,  as  it  was  more 
than  evident  to  Prince  Rezanof  that  the  Span 
ish  feared  an  encroachment  either  upon  their 
trade  or  their  possessions.  Scheme  as  he  might, 
Rezanof  could  not  break  the  barrier  of  prohib 
ited  traffic.  The  Governor  at  Monterey,  the 


CONCEPCION      A  GUELLA 

Commandante  of  the  presidio,  and  the  priests 
of  the  Missions  would  none  of  the  Russians' 
cargo;  nor  would  any  of  the  parties  sell  suffi 
cient  food-stuffs  for  Rezanof  to  obtain  the 
much  needed  relief  for  his  starving  colony  at 
Sitka. 

Upon  the  first  visit  at  the  presidio,  Prince 
Rezanof  met  the  beautiful  daughter  of  the 
Commandante,  Concepcion  Agiiella.  As  his  ef 
forts  to  interest  the  rulers  diminished,  his 
interest  in  Concepcion  increased.  The  clever 
Russian  told  the  pious  girl  of  the  terrible 
scenes  of  starvation  in  the  far-off  country;  he 
told  her  especially  of  the  children's  suffering. 
He  told  of  little  Alec,  the  eight-year-old  child 
of  a  widowed  mother. 

"That  mother,  pain-racked  by  a  dread  dis- 
C//J?) 


MISSION  TALES 

ease,  needed  dainty  nourishment ;  but  instead  she 
had  but  little  of  the  very  coarsest  food.  While 
she  slept,  little  Alec  added  his  portion  to  hers, 
and  together  they  perished — she  with  disease, 
and  he  with  hunger.  On  Christmas  morning, 
when  a  few  of  the  stoutest  hearts  went  about 
the  village  crying,  'Christ  has  come!  Christ  has 
come!'  and  peered  into  each  hut  to  give  a 
Christmas  greeting,  they  paused  and  called 
aloud  to  little  Alec,  for  he  was  well  known 
as  Sitka's  pet.  But  the  men  drew  back  in 
silence,  for  the  mother  and  son  lay  clasped 
in  the  long  embrace,  and  the  angel  of  Death 
stood  guard." 

He  told  Concepcion  of  poor  Nika,  the 
Indian  girl,  beloved  by  the  Russian  hunter, 
Michael. 


CONCEPCION      AGUELLA 

"For  weeks  during  the  hard  Winter,  hunter 
Michael  trudged  on  snow-shoes  over  the  vast 
beds  of  snow  that  he  might  help  Nika,  the 
Indian  girl,  whom  he  so  dearly  loved,  and  her 
parents  and  little  sister.  One  day  the  hunter 
did  not  return,  and  that  night  a  still  more 
bitter,  blinding,  sweeping  snow-storm  than  ever 
swept  over  this  land  of  snow  and  storm,  pil 
ing  the  great  banks  of  merciless  white  until  it 
was  mountains  high.  No  man  could  go  after 
Michael,  and  they  knew  that  it  would  be 
weeks  before  he  could  return,  and  they  doubted 
if  then  he  would  leave  Nika  in  her  helpless 
ness. 

"The  hardships  of  hunting  and  pioneering 
weld  bands  of  friendship  that  endure.  A  week 
passed,  and  then  another,  and  then  four  great 


MISSION 


TALES 


gaunt,  raw-boned  hunters  started  for  Michael 
and  his  loved  ones;  and  no  one  in  the 
village  was  surprised  when  upon  the  third  day 
they  saw  the  little  band  coming  over  the  ft  A 
snow-field  carrying  heavy  burdens.  Two  bore 
the  stiff  bulky  form  of  Michael,  and  the 
others  bore  Nika  and  the  sister.  They  need 
not  have  burdened  themselves  with  the  frail  life 
less  form  of  Nika,  but  they  could  not  leave 
her. 

"The  only  sounds  that  were  heard  from 
the  party  were  the  crunching  of  snow  under 
their  feet,  the  quick  short  breath  of  the  tired 
men,  and  now  and  then  a  sharp  wail  from  the 
infant.  It  was  this  cry  that  had  led  the  rescue 
party  to  the  spot  where  their  friend  and  brother 
lay  with  his  sad  burden. 


C ON C EP C ION      A  GUELLA 

"Arriving  at  Sitka,  other  hunters  applied 
restoratives  to  Michael,  and  after  rubbings  and 
thawings  and  general  drenching  with  hot  liquors, 
he  stirred,  and,  reaching  his  hand  out,  spoke 
the  one  word,  cNika.' 

"  With  the  brusqueness  of  frontiersmen,  they 
told  him  that  Nika  was  dead,  and  then  all 
the  strength  of  four  men  was  taxed  to  keep 
him  from  beating  his  brains  out  against  the 
floor  upon  which  he  lay.  When  he  was  ex 
hausted  and  they  could  make  him  listen,  they 
told  him  that  the  baby  was  there,  alive  and 
well. 

"He  made  not  another  struggle,  but  arose 
and  began  at  once  to  plan  comfort  for  the 
child.  He  then  told  them  how  he  had  taken 
off  his  fur  coat  and  wrapped  it  about  Nika, 


MISSION  TALES 

but  while  he  carried  her  and  the  child  she 
wound  the  coat  about  the  little  one  and  thus 
gave  her  life  for  her  sister.  The  strong  man 
never  again  spoke  of  Nika,  but  proved  his 
love  equal  to  hers  by  devoting  his  life  to  her 
sacrifice." 

Rezanof  saw  yet  another  argument. 

"When  I  came  from  St.  Petersburg,"  he 
said,  "I  brought  furnishings  and  ornaments  for 
a  church  in  Sitka,  and  even  now  the  chapel 
is  being  erected.  The  foundation  is  that  of  a 
Greek  cross;  and  though  the  exterior  must  of 
necessity,  at  this  time,  be  crude  and  plain,  the 
interior  appointments  shall  be  worthy  the  cause. 
Already  the  Emperor  has  given  to  us  from 
his  great  storehouse  of  riches,  appropriated  to 
the  cause  of  righteousness,  many  fine  paint- 

(120) 


C ON C EP C ION      AGUELLA 

ings,  vestments,  and  a  chime  of  sweetest  bells. 
How  we  long  to  hear  them  calling  out  over 
that  sea  of  vast  silence,  turning  the  white  quiet 
into  coral  hues  of  deeper  thrill! 

"The  church  bells,  singing  to  the  people 
of  Al-lak-shak,  recall  the  wandering  Padres* 
labors  among  your  thousands  here  in  Califor 
nia.  Those  who  cannot  understand  the  great 
words  of  the  teachers  may  look  upon  the 
beauteous  pictures  of  the  Madonna  and  the 
Child;  all  can  understand  that  love. 

"  We  shall  have, "  he  continued,  "  a  great 
painting  of  the  Last  Supper;  one  all  sparkling 
with  jewels  and  inlaid  with  silver  and  gold  — 
the  Countess  has  promised  us  that;  and  one  also 
of  the  Holy  Madonna  that  shall  wear  a  crown 
of  real  diamonds,  sapphires,  and  emeralds. 

(121) 


MISSION  TALES 

"Though  our  land  may  now  be  worn  with 
trials  and  starvation,  the  Divine  Unseen  will 
smooth  down  the  road  of  trial  and  bathe 
our  troubled  cheeks  with  cooling  sprays  of 
heavenly  joy,  if  we  attend  our  sacred  services 
and  give  plenteously  to  the  Church." 

The  crafty  Russian  noted  that  the  girl 
listened  interestedly  and  well  to  the  descrip 
tion  of  the  progress  of  the  Church  in  the  ice 
bound  land,  and  with  the  keenness  of  his  race 
and  training,  he  argued  like  all  who  have  a  rea 
son  in  so  doing,  that  a  great  similarity  exists 
between  all  Christian  creeds  or  dogmas,  and 
especially  between  those  of  the  Greek  and 
Catholic  Churches.  He  argued, — 

"Is  it  not  the  same  Christ,  the  same  cross  of 
sorrow,  and  the  same  care  and  love  for  humanity 

(122) 


I 


.; 


; 


CONCEPCION      AGUELLA 

that  we  all  believe  in  ?  And  would  we  not  all 
ask  the  intercession  of  the  Holy  Mother  for  par 
don  of  our  neglect  and  sins  ?  My  country, 
coming  to  Bodega,  will  help  your  country  to 
encircle  the  world  with  the  shining  cross,  the 
emblem  of  salvation." 

Tears  of  religious  ardor  sparkled  in  the 
girl's  beautiful  eyes ;  and  who  shall  say  whether 
it  was  the  pleadings  of  love,  of  religion,  or 
of  pity  for  the  suffering  people  of  Sitka,  that 
won  the  heart  of  this  Spanish  beauty  ?  Certain 
it  is  that  when  Prince  Rezanof  sailed  away,  he 
carried  with  him  the  plighted  troth  of  Concep- 
cion  Aguella,  the  tacit  permission  to  establish 
a  settlement  at  Bodega,  and  plenty  of  food  for 
the  relief  of  Sitka. 

Five  years  later   a   permanent   Russian  set- 


MISSION  TALES 

tlement  was  effected  at  Fort  Ross  on  the  Bay 
of  Bodega.  Had  the  future  held  other  than 
alluring  promise  for  the  two  lovers,  they  would 
have  been  master  and  mistress  of  Little  Rus 
sia,  as  the  new  station  was  sometimes  called. 
But  instead,  Rezanof  returned  to  Alaska  with 
his  ship  of  food  and  clothing,  and  after  care 
fully  preparing  for  the  little  colony's  comfort 
and  conferring  with  Governor  Baranof  con 
cerning  his  new  home,  or  "castle,"  and  new 
storehouses  and  shipping-wharves,  he  prepared 
for  the  long  journey  back  to  St.  Petersburg 
over  the  great  bleak  snow-fields  of  Russia 
that  he  had  so  vividly  depicted  to  the  tender 
hearted  summer  flower  of  Yerba  Buena. 
She  had  never  seen  the  snow,  and  to  her  it 
was  a  pitiless  shroud  that  enveloped  the 


C ON C EP C I  ON      A  GUELLA 

northern  country  and  wrapped  itself  about 
all  travellers,  whispering  the  one  command  — 
"Death!" 

Long  the  girl  waited  for  some  tidings  from 
Sitka  or  from  Russia.  A  month  passed,  and 
then  months  sped  into  a  year,  and  still  no 
message  came  from  her  lover.  Knowing  and 
fearing  the  icebound  north,  the  girl  never 
doubted  her  affianced.  But  when  a  second 
year  had  crawled  by,  she  dreaded  the  approach 
of  a  messenger,  for  her  trusting  heart  harbored 
but  one  thought — the  merciless  snow. 

Visitors  came  and  went,  and  after  the  two 
years  were  spent,  she  ceased  to  make  inquiry. 
One  day  a  party  with  Kuskof,  the  Russian 
settler  at  Bodega  Bay,  chanced  to  mention  the 
name  of  Rezanof,  and  was  told  the  story  of 


]!!?-*s2==^--=ai*'*  ^U 


•  uat. 


MISSION  TALES 

the   plighted   love   of  the  fair  Concepcion  and 
the  Chamberlain  to  the  Czar. 

An  officer  asked  to  meet  the  sad-faced  girl, 
and  tenderly  explained  to  her  her  lover's  long 
silence,  and  told  her  of  his  fate. 

"When  our  mission  at  Sitka  was  ended," 
he  said,  "we  set  out  upon  our  journey  home 
to  St.  Petersburg  across  the  barren  steppes  of 
Siberia.  Arriving  at  the  little  Russian  trading 
station  of  Kloochay,  that  nestles  at  the  foot  of 
the  mighty  volcano,  Kloochefskoi,  Rezanof,  tired 
and  worn  out  with  his  long  anxiety  and  great 
exertions,  determined  to  remain  at  this  beaute- 
ously  situated  village  and  enjoy  the  spring 
days  that  reminded  him  so  well  of  California. 
Everywhere  were  flowers  and  varied  vegetation, 
so  different  from  the  fields  of  ice  that  we  had 


CONCEPCION      A  GUELLA 

left  and  from  those  which  lay  farther  on  our 
journey. 

"Scarcely  had  the  party  decided  to  rest  for 
a  short  time,  when  the  ominous  mutterings  of 
the  restless  volcano  gave  warning  that  an 
eruption  might  occur.  The  night  was  illu 
mined  with  a  fiery  glow  that  broke  from  the 
summit  of  Kloochefskoi,  and  the  day  was  dark 
ened  by  great  black  clouds  of  smoke  that 
belched  like  mighty  bursts  of  anger  from  the 
towering  mountain-peak.  We  were  terror  strick 
en,  and  upon  the  second  morning  hastily  con 
tinued  on  our  arduous  journey  of  six  thousand 
miles  across  the  barren  waste.  The  terrors  of 
the  snow  held  no  place  beside  the  terrors  of 
the  rumbling  Kloochefskoi. 

"After  many  trials  and  difficulties  we  reached 


MISSION  TALES 

Yakootsk  and  pushed  on  to  Irkootsk.  As 
the  party  proceeded,  we  discovered  with  great 
concern  that  Rezanof  grew  daily  weaker  and 
weaker,  and  no  persuasion  could  prevail  upon 
him  to  delay  the  journey  or  to  exchange  his 
horse  for  the  dog-sledge.  Day  after  day  and 
week  after  week  this  determined  man  rode 
over  the  sterile,  frigid  steppes  of  Siberia,  know 
ing  only  too  well  that  if  the  fever  came  upon 
him  he  would  be  unable  to  continue,  and  there 
was  no  competent  help  to  be  obtained  at  any 
of  the  miserable  little  yourts,  or  huts,  and  our 
own  emergency  provisions  had  long  been  ex 
hausted. 

"The  day  came,  however,  when  after  an 
exceedingly  exhausting  and  fatiguing  ride  Re 
zanof  was  unable  to  proceed  on  the  journey, 

(xrf) 


CONCEPCION      A  GUELLA 

and  for  several  days  he  lay  battling  with  fever 
and  weakness.  However,  as  soon  as  he  could 
sit  on  his  horse,  he  insisted  upon  being  placed 
in  the  saddle,  and  we  proceeded  upon  that 
fateful  three-months'  ride.  He  was  determined 
to  carry  back  to  the  Czar  the  report  of  his 
investigations  at  Sitka,  his  project  for  a  new 
station  at  Bodega,  and — what  lay  nearest  his 
heart — to  ask  the  consent  of  the  Emperor  to 
his  union  with  you,  my  most  honored  lady, 
the  Senorita  Concepcion  de  Agiiella  of  Yerba 
Buena. 

"As  our  silent  party  rode  along  we  failed 
to  notice  that  Rezanof  had  dropped  behind, 
until  a  halt  was  made  to  discuss  the  route, 
when  his  absence  was  discovered  and  the 
party  immediately  returned  to  find  that  the 


MISSION  TALES 

enfeebled  man  had  slipped  from  his  horse  and 
lay  still  upon  the  icy  shroud  of  Siberia." 

As  the  narrator  ceased,  Concepcion  knew 
that,  only  too  truly,  this  sad  message  had 
long  fluttered  unceasingly  toward  her  on  the 
wings  of  dark-browed  fate;  but  though  her 
heart  had  well  known  the  story,  the  words 
sounded  harsh  and  petrified  the  blood.  Her 
pathetic,  silent  sorrow  touched  the  speaker, 
and  it  was  some  moments  before  he  continued. 

"We  unclasped  from  about  his  neck  this 
chain  and  locket;  and  not  until  I  heard  to-day 
of  the  betrothal  did  I  know  unto  whom  it 
belonged.  I  return  it  to  you  as  a  comforting 
assurance  of  his  affection."  So  saying,  he  laid 
the  token  of  love  upon  her  outstretched  hand, 
and  quietly  passed  out  of  the  apartment. 


IN  THE  CHURCH  SHE  WAS  KNOWN  AS  THE  SWEET-FACED 
SISTER  CONCHA 


CONCEPCION      A  GUELLA 

What  can  be  said  in  the  face  of  such  grief, 
and  what  can  be  said  when  the  living  are  dead ! 
Woman's  heart  knows  the  strength  of  affec 
tion,  and  when  it  is  taken  from  her,  the  body 
bends  as  a  tiny  sapling  to  be  whipped  back 
into  place  by  the  power  of  will.  The  years 
of  waiting  had  ripened  her  soul  into  hushed 
incense  of  music;  and  the  mysterious  sweet 
ness  of  dream  kisses  had  shaped  her  lovely  lips 
to  song  ecstasy  such  as  comes  from  heavenly 
choirs. 

When  the  dread  thought  had  been  whis 
pered  in  words  and  the  chill  shiver  had 
passed,  Concepcion  stilled  her  love  dream  with 
Death's  message,  and  with  a  quiet  spirit  of 
resignation  she  turned  to  the  Church.  Here  she 
found  consolation,  and  when  her  parents  strove 


1 

51 


MISSION  TALES 

to  interest  her  in  the  world,  she  sought  more 
closely  the  refuge  of  the  sanctuary.  After  a  pro 
longed  sojourn  in  Mexico  and  a  return  to  Yerba 
Buena,  she  visited  Santa  Barbara,  and  there 
became  interested  in  the  charitable  and  educa 
tional  work  of  the  Church,  and  at  the  request 
of  the  Padres  she  took  charge  of  the  school 
for  young  girls  that  was  conducted  under  the 
management  of  the  Mission. 

Her  duties  called  her  many  times  to  San 
Buena  Ventura  and  Carpinteria,  and  on  one  of 
these  journeys  she  carried  as  a  riding-whip  a 
fresh  twig  of  the  Mission  grape-vine.  One  of 
her  devoted  pupils  of  the  latter  place  asked 
her  for  the  riding-whip,  and  the  sweet-faced 
Sister  Concha,  as  she  was  now  known,  smilingly 
gave  it. 


CONCEPCION      AGUELLA 

The  girl  planted  the  twig,  and  like  the 
broad-spreading,  gentle  influence  of  the  pious 
Sister,  the  grape-vine  thrived  and  spread  its 
sweeping  branches,  until  to-day  it  is  the  largest 
single  grape-vine  in  the  world. 

Years  passed,  and  Sister  Concha  became 
Abbess  of  the  convent,  and  later  returned  north 
to  live  again  upon  the  shores  of  her  beloved 
bay  of  Yerba  Buena.  This  time,  however,  she 
took  up  her  abode  at  the  little  village  of 
Benicia,  where  to-day  she  rests  in  the  sombre 
silence  of  the  tomb. 


The  Story  of  Little  R.ossiya 


THE  STORY  OF  LITTLE 
ROSSIYA 


|T  was  the  third  attempt  of 
the  Russians  to  establish  a 
colony  in  New  Albion;  so 
when  the  neat  brig  Chirikof 
cast  anchor  in  the  Bay  of 
Rumiantzof — now  known  as  Bodega  —  there 
was  rejoicing  on  the  part  of  Ivan  Alexandro- 
vich  Kuskof,  in  whose  charge  the  expedition 
came,  and  little  less  cheer  on  the  part  of 
the  ninety-odd  convicts  and  eighty  Aleuts  who 
were  sent  to  assist  him  in  the  enterprise.  This 
was  in  March,  1811.  The  site  for  the  new 
town  had  been  selected  by  Prince  Rezanof  in 

(W) 


MISSION  TALES 

1806,  and  was  well  known  to  the  Indians  as 
Mad-shui-nui. 

It  was  some  eighteen  miles  up  the  coast 
from  the  only  safe  landing-place,  and  it  com 
manded  a  view  of  unsurpassable  beauty  as  well 
as  undeniable  safety;  and,  because  of  the  latter 
quality,  the  Russian  had  purchased  it  by  barter 
from  the  Indians,  thereby  settling  for  all  time 
the  question  of  occupation,  so  far  as  the  na 
tives  were  concerned.  Kuskof  paid  to  the  chief 
of  the  Mayacmas  three  blankets,  three  pairs  of 
Russian  breeches,  two  axes,  three  hoes,  and  a 
quantity  of  beads  for  the  town  site  and  for 
the  tillable  land  adjacent  to  the  hills  upon 
which  the  future  fort  was  to  be  established. 

The  Aleuts  were  sent  out  in  their  bidarkas 
to  hunt  for  seal  and  otter,  while  the  con- 


STORY  OF  LITTLE  ROSSIYA 

victs,  under  the  direction  of  twenty-five  mechan 
ics,  cut  and  prepared  timber  for  the  buildings. 
For  a  month  the  sound  of  the  axe  and  the 
heavy  thud  of  the  falling  monarchs  of  the 
forest  were  the  new  thrills  to  the  mountain 
sides  that  sent  the  loose  rocks  tumbling  to 
the  gulches,  that  they  too  might  take  voice 
and  action  in  the  new  enterprise. 

The  site  selected  was  a  succession  of  three 
small  mesas,  one  above  another,  the  lowest  one 
ending  in  an  abrupt  cliff  about  one  hundred 
feet  above  the  sea.  Two  deep  gulches  en 
closed  this  semicircle,  and  the  height  above 
the  background  was  a  crowning  mass  of  dense 
ancient  redwood,  sending  towering  spires  up 
into  the  very  skies.  From  the  summit  a  tim 
ber  chute  sent  the  felled  redwoods  to  the  last 


i 


1 


MISSION  TALES 

mesa  below,  where  Kuskof  intended  to  build 
the  fort.  By  September  the  buildings  were 
ready  for  dedication  and  occupancy.  The  tenth 
of  that  month  being  the  name-day  of  Alexander, 
the  Emperor  of  Russia,  these  rough  men  of 
the  frontier  held  a  picturesque  service  of  song 
and  feast,  and  ended  the  festival  by  dedicating 
the  fort  as  "Little  Rossiya" — meaning  "Little 
Russia."  As  each  year  passed,  buildings  were 
added  to  "Little  Rossiya,"  until  the  village 
became  known  far  and  wide  as  Fort  Ross. 

Kuskof,  the  agent  of  the  Russian  Fur 
Company  of  Alaska,  took  pride  in  his  village. 
He  surrounded  it  with  a  stockade  defence 
twelve  feet  in  height;  built  a  block-house  in 
one  corner  and  a  chapel  in  the  other — both 
used  as  towers  of  defence  with  mounted  can- 


STORY  OF  LITTLE  ROSSIYA 

non,  the  fort  containing  from  fifteen  to  forty 
pieces  of  artillery.  Outside  the  stockade  on 
the  mesa  were  the  huts  for  the  Aleuts  and 
natives;  there  were  granaries,  workshops,  stock 
yards,  and  an  immense  windmill  and  bath 
house. 

There  was  but  one  entrance  to  the  stock 
ade,  and  but  one  approach  from  the  sea. 
This  was  by  way  of  stairs  cut  in  the  rock, 
with  an  iron  hand-rail  leading  down  to  the 
boat-landing ;  therefore  any  traveller  coming  by 
sea  must  mount  the  stone  steps  that  led  to 
the  entrance  gate,  and  any  one  coming  by  land 
must  finally  reach  the  same  gateway.  A  few 
straggling  huts  were  to  be  found  down  in  the 
gulches,  but  the  paths  led  from  these  also  again 
to  the  gate. 


MISSION  TALES 

Kuskof  spent  many  interested  years  within 
the  quaint  walls  of  Fort  Ross,  with  only  busi 
ness  and  mild  pleasures  to  divert  him.  His 
coming  to  the  Bay  had  made  great  consterna 
tion  among  the  Spanish  settlers  at  Yerba  Buena 
(San  Francisco),  but  his  going  gave  little  con 
cern.  It  was  not  until  a  beautiful  woman 
came  to  dwell  at  Little  Rossiya  that  the  Span 
iards  took  note  of  the  Fort  and  interchanged 
many  social  compliments. 

"A  princess  has  arrived  at  Fort  Ross!" 

"  She  is  beautiful,  she  is  vivacious,  she  is 
grand ! " 

"Muy  buena — very  good — we  will  go/'  And 
such  was  the  sentiment  of  the  entire  country. 

Prince  Alexander  Rotscheff  had  brought 
his  lovely  bride,  the  Princess  Helene  de  Gaga- 


ggra 


STORY  OF  LITTLE  ROSSIYA 

rin,  to  live  at  Fort  Ross.  The  coming  of  the 
courtly  woman,  with  her  train  of  attendants 
and  her  sumptuous  wedding  wardrobe,  gave 
life  to  the  Fort  and  to  the  surrounding 
Spanish  settlements,  such  as  they  had  never 
known. 

General  Vallejo  of  Sonoma  and  his  cultured 
family  eagerly  welcomed  the  Princess  and  her 
merry  court.  The  rides  through  the  forest 
and  along  the  sloping  banks  of  the  Russian 
River,  over  the  uplands  between  the  hills  that 
lead  to  the  rich  Sonoma  Valley,  where  the  wild 
flowers  carpeted  the  land  and  sent  out  their 
sweet  fragrance,  were  the  prime  joy  and  pastime 
of  these  Russian  lovers. 

Many  were  the  visits  to  the  hospitable 
ranch  of  Sonoma  Valley,  and  many  the  invita- 


•-'I 


MISSION  TALES 

tions  to  festivals  and  fandangos,  where  the 
bride's  wealth  of  blond  loveliness  cast  charming 
contrast  on  the  dark  radiance  of  the  Spanish 
beauties. 

Many  a  time  the  fair  stranger  was  bathed 
in  cologne  showers  and  covered  with  fine  gold 
and  silver  bits  from  a  dozen  cascarones  that 
were  broken  and  flashed  over  her.  She  soon 
embraced  the  fiesta  spirit,  and  she  herself  and 
her  companions  prepared  and  brought  filled 
egg-shells  and  uncorked  scent-bottles,  and  joined 
in  the  merry  game  of  carnival  joy. 

Princess  Helene  led  the  contradance,  the 
stately  minuet  of  the  Spanish  ball,  and  with 
the  same  flush  of  youth  listened  to  the  verses 
and  dances  of  "  Los  Camotes,"  <c  Las  Pollitas," 
or  "  La  Jota,"  as  they  were  danced  by  the  gay 


STORY  OF  LITTLE  ROSSIYA 

crowds  without,  and  even  laughingly  sang  with 
the  chorus  of  "  El  Sombrero  Blanco  " — 

"<j)uieres  que  te  ponga  mi  sombrero  bianco? 
®)uieres  que  te  ponga  ml  sombrero  azul? 
®)uieres  que  te  sienta  ml  vida,  en  un  trono? 
^uieres  que  te  cante  el  turun,   tu,   tun?" 

and  announced  that  she  would  forego  the  crown 
and  take  the  white  hat. 

This  care-free,  fun-loving  Princess  took  de 
light  and  interest  in  everything.  She  applauded 
the  perfect  execution  of  the  "Jarabe,"  as  some 
ancient  dame  pattered  with  her  feet  so  swiftly 
and  so  deftly  for  such  a  length  of  time  that 
even  the  fair  patroness  was  wont  to  cry, 
"Enough!"  She  herself  would  shower  the 
dancer  of  the  "Son"  with  pieces'  of  gold  and 
silver  when  the  glass  of  water  was  presented 


MISSION  TALES 

to  her,  which  the  pretty  dancer  had  carried 
upon  her  head  while  she  travelled  the  silken 
hobble  from  her  ankles  to  her  knees  and  back 
again. 

She  loved  the  gay,  picturesque  costumes  of 
the  new  country,  and  the  open  court  of  the 
patio,  with  its  wealth  of  Castilian  roses  of  del 
icate  pink  mingling  with  the  pure  white  of 
the  many  lilies,  as  they  twined  and  clustered 
over  the  singing  fountain  and  in  and  about 
the  pillars  and  arches  of  the  spacious  quad 
rangle  or  the  sequestered  family  patio.  The 
visit  ended,  Helene  and  the  dashing  Rotscheff 
would  return  to  their  aerie  in  the  pines,  carry 
ing  back  with  them  gay  companions  of  the 
warm  Southern  blood,  there  to  make  merry 
in  the  quiet  fortress  of  the  hill. 


STORY  OF  LITTLE  ROSSIYA 

To-day  Little  Rossiya  was  gala  in  its  quaint 
dress  of  bright  Russian  banners,  pennons,  and 
flags,  intermingled  with  the  golden  yellow  and 
crimson  red  of  Spanish  colors;  for  the  Princess 
had  arranged  a  boat-race  of  bidarkas  to  take 
place  while  the  sea  was  calm,  just  below  the 
great  stone  steps.  The  crude  stairway  was 
covered  with  magnificent  skins  of  the  polar 
bear,  and  the  entire  one  hundred  and  sixteen 
steps  were  filled  with  Russian  and  Spanish 
maiden  beauty. 

Helene's  golden  head  seemed  the  crowning 
bit  of  glory.  The  girls  laughed  and  sang, 
while  the  Aleuts  paddled  their  seal  boats  into 
line;  and  when  a  sharp  crack  rang  out  over 
the  sea,  the  bidarkas  sprang  forward,  and  a 
shout  of  encouragement  arose  from  the  top  of 


MISSION  TALES 

the  mesa,  where  the  men  covered  the  open 
space  and  clung  to  the  crags  for  an  advantage. 
The  course  was  short,  and  the  races  were 
repeated  until  the  spectators  were  tired.  To 
each  winner  money  was  thrown  by  one  of 
•  the  bright  beauties.  When  it  came  the  turn 
of  fair-haired  Rosalie  to  toss  the  money  to 
a  swarthy-faced  Indian,  her  foot  slipped,  and, 
despite  the  iron  rail,  she  fell  beneath  it  and 
went  headlong  into  the  sea.  The  height  was 
not  great,  but  she  had  not  reached  the  water 
before  the  Indian;  he  carefully  lifted  her  out 
of  the  waves  and  placed  her  upon  the  bidarka 
amid  the  cheers  of  the  spectators.  She  waved 
her  hand,  and  —  as  if  it  were  part  of  the  show 
—  ordered  that  the  bidarka  be  landed  at  the 
foot  of  the  stone  stairs. 


STORY  OF  LITTLE  ROSSIYA 

Days  and  months  passed  but  slowly.  The 
long  days  of  fog  and  winter  rains,  and  the 
chill  winds  moaning  through  the  giant  trees 
above  the  fortress,  made  even  these  stoutest 
lovers  pine  for  the  gay  warmth  of  Russian 
court  life.  After  three  years  of  isolation,  Prin 
cess  Helene  joyously  contemplated  a  return  to 
her  home  at  St.  Petersburg. 

But  an  event  occurred  which  caused  great 
est  consternation.  Among  her  many  admirers, 
there  was  one  upon  whom  the  Princess  had 
not  counted,  and  of  whom  she  did  not  know. 
Upon  one  of  many  visits  to  the  hospitable 
rancho  of  Sonoma,  her  party  met  with  a  small 
band  of  Indian  braves.  At  the  head  rode 
their  chief,  Solano,  he  who  ruled  all  the  many 
tribes  and  sub-tribes  of  the  Sonoma  Valley 


MISSION 


the 


TALES 


mountains  beyond.  He  was  a  power 
ful  chief;  a  man  of  great  valor  and  broad, 
noble  mind.  He  was  in  truth  Emperor  of  all 
these  people.  He  had  heard  of  the  strangers 
of  the  Fort,  and  had  many  times  exchanged 
and  bartered  foods  and  hides  with  them, 
but  he  never  had  seen  this  wonderful  goddess, 
this  fair-haired,  pale-faced  beauty. 

Strange  as  the  strangest  freak  of  nature, 
the  dark-skinned  son  of  the  forest  loved  at 
one  sight  the  fair  girl  of  the  Fort.  To  him, 
desire  meant  possession.  He  knew  no  law 
superior  to  his  own  will;  and  though  the 
strange  passion  seemed  even  to  him  a  curious 
thing,  he  never  thought  of  anything  else  than 
to  satisfy  his  love  and  bring  home  to  his 
lodge  the  new  wife  of  his  choice.  All  Indian 


STORY  OF  LITTLE  ROSSIYA 

chiefs  may  possess  as  many  wives  as  they 
wish ;  and  when  one  sees  a  new  face  that 
attracts  him,  it  is  his  privilege  to  have  her 
brought  to  his  home. 

Of  course,  Chief  Solano  knew  that  the 
customs  of  the  white-faced  people  were  differ 
ent.  However,  his  passionate  love  for  this 
beautiful  jewel  outweighed  everything  else.  He 
could  carry  her  off  into  the  high  mountains 
and  hide  her  away  from  all  searchers;  and  the 
fastnesses  of  his  forest  lair  could  be  guarded 
by  his  faithful  people  so  that  no  white  man 
could  enter  the  region  and  live.  Such  were 
his  thoughts  and  desires ;  and  to  carry  them 
out  he  called  a  council  of  all  his  sub-chiefs 
and  told  them  his  wishes. 

A  strong   band    of  braves   was    to   go   with 


MISSION 


TALES 


him  to  the  Fort  and  at  night  attack  and  set 
fire  to  the  stockade  and  adjoining  buildings. 
While  the  fire  raged,  he  himself  would  capture 
and  carry  off  Helene,  the  fair-haired,  silken 
shower  of  sunshine,  the  singing  flower  of  his 
soul.  They  would  then  flee  with  her  to  the 
heart  of  the  Mayacmas  forest,  and  each  chief 
would  set  a  watch  to  guard  the  approaches, 
allowing  no  stranger  to  pass  through  the 
mountains. 

All  seemed  in  readiness,  and  no  one  dared 
voice  dissent  to  their  chief.  But  all  unawares 
there  was  a  traitor  heart  in  the  council.  Some 
said  it  was  the  very  man  of  the  bidarka,  who 
had  lost  his  blond  girl  of  the  sea;  who,  when 
he  had  asked  to  have  the  girl  sent  to  him,  had 
received  a  lash  and  a  swift  kick  for  his  pains. 


a 


STORY  OF  LITTLE  ROSSIYA 

And  now  that  the  chief  merely  wished  an 
additional  wife,  all  the  Indians  were  willing  to 
help  him — and  this  heart  rebelled.  No  matter 
who  told,  but  the  secret  love  and  the  planned 
attack,  with  all  the  details,  were  conveyed  to 
the  knowledge  of  General  Vallejo. 

The  gallant  General  had  held  many  coun 
cils  with  Chief  Solano;  and,  though  he  knew 
that  this  matter  was  most  delicate  and  most 
serious,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  despatch  a 
courier  at  once  to  the  Chief,  asking  him  to 
come  for  an  early  interview  to  the  Mission. 
Chief  Solano,  never  dreaming  that  his  project 
or  his  love  could  have  reached  the  ear  of  his 
friend  the  General,  without  hesitation  delayed 
his  attack  on  Fort  Ross,  and  went  to  meet 
him. 

C'Jtf) 


, 


MISSION  TALES 

With  the  delicate  tact  of  a  Spanish  officer, 
the  courteous  General  brought  the  Indian  to 
acknowledge  the  strong  friendship  existing  be 
tween  the  Indian  tribes  and  the  Spanish;  he 
rehearsed  the  great  strength  of  the  army  of 
Spain,  and  the  still  greater  power  of  the  army 
of  Russia;  he  spoke  of  the  number  of  ships 
and  of  men  that  each  ruler  could  send  into 
any  country  that  opposed  his  laws  or  did 
great  harm  to  ;his  people.  He  diplomatically 
led  the  subject  to  the  laws  of  each  country, 
remarking  that  the  Indian  Chief  took  what  he 
wished  from  his  people,  but  that  the  Spaniard 
and  Russian  courteously  sought  permission  of 
fair  women  even  to  pay  them  court;  and  not 
until  the  women  were  mentioned  did  Solano 
see  that  the  General  knew  of  his  secret. 


STORY  OF  LITTLE  ROSSIYA 

It  took  firm,  persuasive  insistence  on  the 
part  of  General  Vallejo  to  convince  the  Indian 
Chief  that  for  the  good  of  his  own  people  he 
must  resign  his  claim  for  the  Princess  if  he 
wished  to  enjoy  the  good-will  of  her  nation. 
The  attack  was  not  made. 

General  Vallejo  was  loath  to  see  his  friends 
of  Fort  Ross  depart  for  the  distant  land  of 
the  Great  Bear;  but  he  felt,  as  well  as  did 
Prince  Rotscheff,  that  the  fair  Princess  would 
be  much  safer  within  the  walled  court  of  St. 
Petersburg.  So  they  went  away,  casting  two 
charming  shadows  on  the  stream  of  Spanish 
life  in  California. 


The  Penance  Bell  of  Los 
Angeles 


THE   PENANCE   BELL   OF   LOS 
ANGELES 

BAPTIZE     thee     and     name 
thee  Enrique  Domingo  Fitch," 
solemnly  said  Padre  Menendez 
to  the  handsome  young  Ameri 
can  kneeling  before  him. 
And  thus  plain  Henry  became  Don  Enrique. 
For  a  whole  year  Henry  Fitch   had  been   seri 
ously   in  love  with   the   beautiful    Dona  Josefa, 
daughter    of  Joaquin    Carrillo    of   San    Diego; 
but  as  the  ecclesiastical    law  of  Nueva  Califor 
nia  forbade  marriages  with   foreigners,  American 
Henry  decided  to  become  Spanish  Enrique  and 
at  the  same  time  enter  the  Catholic  Church  by 


MISSION  TALES 

way  of  a  formal  baptism,  hoping  that  by  so 
doing  it  would  become  easier  for  him  to  gain 
Josefa  as  his  bride. 

In  truth,  Henry's  only  sin  seemed  to  be 
that  of  having  been  born  to  Beriah  and  Sarah 
Fitch  of  New  Bedford,  Massachusetts,  instead 
of  Beriah  and  Sarah  Fitch  of  Nueva  California. 
Henry's  charms  of  manner  and  person  had 
completely  captivated  the  father  and  mother  of 
his  inamorata  and  likewise  her  cousin,  Don 
Pio  Pico,  and  the  good  Franciscan  friar,  Father 
Menendez.  They  all  seemed  to  think  that 
under  the  circumstances  a  little  latitude  in  the 
law  might  be  taken.  Therefore,  very  quietly 
to  be  sure,  a  wedding  was  arranged  with  the 
baptism  and  renaming  as  a  preliminary  feature, 
Alfred  Domingo  Carrillo  acting  as  godfather. 

(160} 


THE      PENANCE      BELL 

To  cheat  the  fun-loving  people  of  New  Spain 
out  of  a  wedding  feast  and  festival  was  indeed 
a  serious  matter,  but  whether  it  was  the  loss 
of  the  fun  and  entertainment  or  from  a  deeper 
motive  that  Governor  Echeandia  allowed  his 
spectre  of  meanness  to  enter  the  wedding  hall, 
no  one  now  may  say. 

Upon  the  following  evening,  April  15, 
1829,  while  the  moon  made  the  stars  pale  and 
distant,  the  hall  of  Carrillo's  home  was  bright 
with  the  golden  light  of  love  and  flowers,  for 
it  was  gayly  trimmed  in  trailing  vines  and  fairly 
lined  with  roses  and  lilies,  and  the  bride's 
beauty  never  shone  out  more  perfectly.  Her 
velvety  eyes  were  half  screened  by  the  lace 
folds  of  her  wedding  veil;  her  silken  skirts 
were  the  finest  that  the  cargo  of  Don  Enrique's 

</<*/) 


MISSION  TALES 

trading  vessel,  the  Maria  Ester,  could  boast; 
the  happy  lovers  stood  before  the  good  but 
timid  priest  ready  to  exchange  the  vow,  "  I 
will,"  when  a  man  for  whom  they  were  waiting 
entered  the  room,  advanced  rapidly  to  within  a 
few  feet  of  the  bridal  couple,  and  with  brusque 
manner  and  loud  voice  said:  "In  the  name  of 
the  Governor  I  forbid  the  banns." 

Was  it  for  this  they  had  waited?  Was  it 
possible  that  Alfred  Domingo  Carrillo,  godfather 
to  the  groom,  was  forbidding  the  marriage? 
Surely  there  was  some  mistake. 

"You  are  mistaken,  my  brother,"  said  Senor 
Carrillo,  the  father  of  Josefa;  "by  what  right 
do  you  thus  interfere  with  so  solemn  a  service  ? " 

"I  am  aide  to  the  Governor,  and  my  first 
duty  lies  with  the  State,"  replied  the  doughty 


THE      PENANCE      BELL 

patriot.  And  no  amount  of  persuasion  on  the 
part  of  the  men,  nor  tears  on  the  part  of  the 
bride,  could  alter  the  edict  or  gain  the  consent 
of  the  uncle  to  sign  as  witness  for  the  cere 
mony. 

Perhaps  charming  Josefa  knew  more  of  the 
subtle  reasons  for  the  interruption  of  the  wed 
ding  than  she  cared  at  that  moment  to  acknowl 
edge,  for  it  was  a  well-known  fact  that  the 
Governor  made  his  residence  in  San  Diego, 
"because  of  the  charms  of  the  ladies/'  rather 
than  in  Monterey,  the  accredited  capital  of  the 
country;  and  was  not  Josefa  the  most  charm 
ing  and  most  beautiful  of  all  of  the  ladies  of 
San  Diego?  Governor  Echeandia  had  paid  her 
marked  attention,  and  now  Governor  Echeandia 
was  forbidding  her  marriage. 


MISSION  TALES 

This  man  had  a  blacker  and  harder  heart 
than  the  black  rock  Tosaut.  But  the  wit  of 
woman  at  all  times  is  quick  where  her  heart  is 
concerned,  for  her  wisdom  trains  with  the  blood 
of  the  heart;  therefore,  rather  than  submit  to 
defeat  by  Echeandia  this  maid  would  seem  to 
appear  overbold  with  her  well-nigh  husband; 
so  bending  slightly  toward  him,  with  a  rare 
twinkle  in  her  eye,  she  whispered,  "Why  don't 
you  carry  me  off,  Don  Enrique  ? " 

On  the  following  evening  Don  Enrique 
bade  farewell  to  the  Carrillos  and  his  many 
friends,  and  with  apparent  regret  he  boarded  his 
vessel  and  set  sail.  Both  the  Vulture  and  the 
Maria  Ester  left  port,  the  former  in  com 
mand  of  Captain  Barry,  a  firm  friend  of  Cap 
tain  Fitch.  Passing  the  bluff  of  Point  Loma, 


"rgr'"^-"-^-^*^^  ?^j— A^"_— - 


THE      PENANCE      BELL 

the  Vulture  hauled  on  a  stout  wind  to  the 
west. 

Echeandia  was  off  his  guard.  As  the  moon 
melted  into  the  sea,  the  goddess  of  Love  spun 
webs  over  the  eyes  of  the  world,  and  soft 
nature  was  left  to  envelop  the  form  of  a  swift- 
fleeing  horse  whose  feet  tapped  the  sand  to 
the  cadence  of  the  love-laden  heart  that  it  bore. 
The  horse  carried  double. 

On  the  strand  lay  beached  the  captain's 
gig  of  a  vessel,  and  only  a  moment  was  taken 
to  wrap  a  serape  close  about  the  girlish  form 
that  was  carefully  lifted  from  Don  Pico's  mount, 
and  with  a  kiss  and  caress  Josefa  was  given 
into  the  keeping  of  the  Captain,  and  the  stars 
twinkled  delight  as  the  boat  skimmed  over  the 
water  to  meet  the  vessel  that  waited. 


MISSION  TALES 

Don  Enrique's  care  and  concern  for  the 
good  name  of  his  future  wife  were  shown  by 
his  taking  passage  on  board  the  Vulture  with 
Captain  Barry;  and  of  the  invited  wedding 
guests  of  San  Diego  only  Barry  was  permitted 
to  witness  the  finished  ceremony.  He  called 
the  curate  Orrego  of  the  little  town  of  Valpa 
raiso  to  complete  the  band  that  the  demon 
Jealousy  had  all  but  clipped. 

A  year  passed,  and  in  July,  1830,  Captain 
Fitch  and  his  wife  and  son  were  anchored  off 
San  Pedro  on  board  the  Leonor. 

Father  Jose  Sanchez,  father  superior  of  the 
Missions  of  California,  resided  at  San  Gabriel 
Mission,  of  which  San  Pedro  was  the  port. 
Upon  hearing  of  the  arrival,  or  rather  the 
return,  of  Captain  Fitch  with  his  wife,  the 


x   -— • 

K 


THE      PENANCE      BELL 

Padre  sent  a  summons  for  them  to  appear 
before  him  as  a  vicar  and  ecclesiastical  judge 
upon  "charges  most  serious." 

Captain  Fitch  replied  to  the  summons  by 
despatching  his  marriage  certificate  to  the  vicar 
for  his  inspection,  and  calmly  sailed  off  to 
Monterey.  Father  Sanchez  was  not  satisfied 
with  the  certificate;  he  preferred  to  doubt  its 
authenticity,  and  despatched  a  further  order 
for  the  arrest  and  return  of  the  guilty  party 
to  San  Gabriel  for  trial.  Governor  Echeandia 
had  removed  to  Monterey,  and  was  most 
pleased  to  execute  the  order  of  arrest.  He 
went  further:  he  ordered  the  husband  and 
wife  to  be  separated ;  he  ordered  the  return 
of  the  Captain  to  San  Gabriel,  and  the 
detention  of  the  wife  in  Monterey,  under 


MISSION  TALES 

the    care    of     Captain    Cooper    and    his    good 
wife. 

Captain  Fitch  began  manoeuvring  to  delay 
both  his  departure  and  his  trial.  He  claimed 
that  he  could  not  travel  by  land,  and  his  ship  was 
not  ready  to  sail  south.  What  man  once  a 
sailor  can  travel  by  land?  And  if  a  sailor  has 
become  a  captain,  the  matter  becomes  more 
difficult  to  consider.  So  firmly  convinced  was 
Captain  Fitch  of  his  own  disability  to  travel 
by  land  with  the  whole  sea  before  him  that 
he  kept  a  series  of  despatches  and  com 
munications  passing  between  San  Gabriel  and 
Monterey,  until  finally  he  persuaded  the  sev 
eral  authorities  to  permit  him  to  return  by  his 
own  brig  the  Leonor.  This  point  was  severely 
contested  by  the  worthy  Fiscal,  or  Treasurer, 


THE      PENANCE      BELL 


and  he  only  consented  to  allow  the  departure 
by  sea  provided  one  Virmond  gave  surety  or 
became  bondsman  for  the  culprit's  due  appear 
ance  at  San  Gabriel  Mission. 

As  the  Captain  had  extensive  business  along 
the  coast,  he  took  his  good  time  between 
Monterey  and  San  Pedro,  stopping  to  trade  at 
Santa  Barbara  and  other  points.  Therefore,  it 
was  not  until  December  that  he  was  safely 
locked  in  a  room  in  San  Gabriel  Mission. 

During  all  this  time  the  sweet  Dona  Josefa 
was  planning  how  best  to  gain  her  release  and 
change  of  venue.  She  wished  to  be  separated 
from  the  close  proximity  of  the  Governor,  the 
source  and  cause  of  all  her  trouble  and  annoy 
ance.  She  persuaded  Captain  Cooper  that  it 
would  be  far  better  for  her  also  to  be  at  San 


MISSION  TALES 

Gabriel,  where  they  were  to  be  tried  for  their 
offences,  and  she  naively  consented  to  be 
placed  under  the  care  of  the  good  Dona  Eu- 
lalia  Perez,  whom  she  had  known  from  child 
hood,  and  who  was  the  real  working  head  of 
the  Mission  San  Gabriel.  Her  arguments  pre 
vailed,  and  in  November  she  arrived  at  the 
port  of  San  Pedro  on  board  the  Pocahontas^ 
and  was  carried  to  San  Gabriel  and  placed 
under  the  charge  of  her  erstwhile  friend. 

The  Mission  San  Gabriel  and  its  quad 
rangle  of  buildings  made  a  beautiful  picture. 
It  nestled  against  distant  hills,  and  neither 
stood  out  from  the  dim  background  nor  en 
tirely  melted  within  it.  It  attracted  the  eye  — 
this  pink,  yellow-gray  of  the  little  stone  chapel 

crowned  with  dull-reddish  tile  and  supported  by 

(170) 


THE      PENANCE      BELL 

a  bulwark  of  quaint  buttresses  relieved  from 
monotony  by  a  series  of  stone  steps  ascending 
from  the  outside  to  the  choir-loft,  which  rest 
ed  over  the  main  entrance.  The  side  entrance 
was  more  attractive  than  the  main  one;  all 
else  was  lost  in  the  beauty  and  charm  of  the 
tower  of  bells  framed  in  adobe  arches  of  sizes 
to  suit  the  width  of  the  bells.  There  were 
long  rows  of  adobe  and  tule-roofed  huts  that 
spread  about  the  Mission  like  an  army,  and 
were  the  homes  of  the  hundreds  of  Indian 
workers. 

The  picture  was  perfect — but  since  then 
the  chill  hands  of  both  temblor  and  tempest 
have  touched  rudely  the  charm  and  blighted 
the  pride  of  all  of  the  California  Missions  — 
San  Gabriel  Archangel. 


'' 


MISSION  TALES 

The  weeks  intervening  between  the  arrival 
of  Josefa  and  the  coming  of  her  husband  were 
spent  in  rides  over  the  valley  and  about  the 
hills  that  comprised  the  extensive  lands  of  the 
Mission.  The  girl  noticed  carefully  the  rich 
resources  of  the  great  holdings,  for  now  she 
was  the  wife  of  a  merchant  trader.  The 
great  grants  of  land  under  the  Mission's 
control  extended  along  El  Gamino  Real  to 
Santa  Gertrudis,  and  down  to  Santa  Ana. 
They  spread  to  La  Puenta  Rancho  and  San 
Gorgonio;  they  included  Jurupa,  San  Bernar 
dino,  and  a  portion  of  San  Raphael. 

Vast  herds  of  cattle  and  horses  roamed 
over  these  fields ;  great  droves  of  swine,  flocks 
of  sheep  and  goats,  showed  plainly  the  source 
of  the  country's  wealth,  and  from  whence  Don 


w 


THE      PENANCE      BELL 

Enrique  could  charter  his  load  of  hides  for 
his  return  trip  to  Lima. 

Aside  from  the  hides  and  tallow  that  came 
from  the  stock,  the  extensive  holdings  pro 
duced  from  twenty-five  to  thirty  thousand 
bushels  of  grain  annually;  and  there  were  more 
than  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  vines  in 
the  four  vineyards  —  little  wonder  that  all  the 
other  Missions  sent  to  San  Gabriel  for  their 
supply  of  fine  wine  and  brandy.  More  than 
two  thousand  fruit  trees  supplied  fresh  fruits 
to  the  ten  hundred  and  more  who  inhabited 
and  enjoyed  the  bounty  of  this  station.  The 
treasure  store  was  under  the  watchful  eye  of 
Eulalia,  who  was  cashier,  receiving  clerk,  teach 
er,  and  "Master." 

No  goods  came  into  the  storehouse  without 


v 

$ 

n>J 


MISSION  TALES 

her  examining  the  quantity  and  quality,  and 
woe  to  the  persons  who  tried  to  defraud  honest 
Eulalia!  They  did  it  but  once — the  next 
time  she  refused  to  trade  with  them.  San 
Gabriel  was  rich  enough  to  be  independent, 
and  the  market  small  enough  to  make  traders 
careful.  This  wonderful  guardian  even  helped 
to  sort  roots  and  dried  herbs  that  were  gath 
ered  for  medicine.  She  passed  on  the  chamisal 
that  was  used  for  the  tea  that  cured  colds  and 
cramps  and  also  was  an  antidote  for  poisonous 
bites ;  and  she  directed  the  Indian  girls  how  to 
make  the  leaves  of  this  precious  herb  into  a 
curative  salve.  Her  storehouse  and  medicine- 
chest  contained  every  herb  of  California  that  was 
known  to  possess  healing  qualities.  Gladly  she 
gave  Josefa  bundles  of  yerba  santa  and  yerba 

(JfcO 


THE      PENANCE      BELL 

mansa,  that  her  baby  might  never  suffer  with 
sore  throat  or  fever;  she  sent  her  of  the  In 
dian  pink,  that  all  bruises  might  be  cured; 
and  she  even  had  a  young  Indian  girl  roast 
seeds  of  the  wild  cucumber  and  make  a  salve 
for  the  hair,  to  encourage  its  growth.  To  Jo- 
sefa  many  of  these  remedies  were  new,  for 
Eulalia  had  learned  of  their  properties  from 
the  Indians,  and,  being  always  provident,  she 
adopted  all  things  that  to  her  seemed  good. 

The  day  came  for  Don  Enrique  to  arrive; 
the  young  wife  saw  him  brought  along  the 
Mission  road  guarded  like  a  pirate,  and  her 
heart  sank,  for  their  separation  had  been  long  and 
severe.  She  had  but  seldom  heard  from  him; 
and  now  that  he  was  at  the  Mission  she  was 
told  that  she  would  be  removed  from  under 


MISSION  TALES 

the  care  of  Eulalia,  as  she  was  too  near  her 
captive  husband.  She  was  therefore  transferred 
into  the  keeping  of  Mrs.  William  A.  Richard 
son,  who  very  gladly  and  kindly  received  the 
persecuted  young  wife  and  her  child. 

By  this  time  the  legal  summons  had  been 
construed  to  read  that  "  Captain  Fitch,  of  the 
brig  Leonor,  is  entitled  to  no  concessions;  that 
his  offences  are  most  heinous,  and  his  intention 
evidently  is  to  run  away  again." 

The  Fiscal,  Jose  Palomares,  repeatedly 
summoned  the  guilty  couple  before  the  eccle 
siastical  court  of  San  Gabriel.  The  case  was 
argued  from  all  possible  standpoints,  but  the 
only  tangible  legal  point  lay  in  the  validity 
of  the  marriage  license,  and  they  seemed  not 
able  to  prove  it  other  than  valid.  Therefore 

(4*) 


THE      PENANCE      BELL 


the  case  finally  assumed  the  form  of  shifting 
the  blame  for  the  arrest  of  parties  without  suffi 
cient  cause.  The  worthy  Fiscal  pronounced 
"Echeandia's  act  a  gross  infringement  on  eccle 
siastical  authority,"  declared  him  "a  culprit 
before  God's  tribunal,"  and  urged  that  "he 
be  arrested  and  brought  to  trial." 

In  this  Padre  Sanchez  warmly  concurred, 
but  delayed  making  any  arrest.  Further,  the 
learned  Fiscal  announced:  "As  for  the  marriage 
certificate  of  Don  Enrique  Domingo  Fitch  and 
Dona  Josefa  Carrillo,  it  is  slightly  torn  and 
blotted;  it  includes  no  statement  of  the  city  or 
church  where  the  ceremony  was  performed ;  the 
paper  was  neither  legalized  before  three  escri- 
banos^  nor  vised  by  the  Chilian  minister  of  for 
eign  affairs.  Moreover,  P.  Orrego,  not  being 


MISSION 


TALES 


the  curate  of  the  parties,  could  not  marry  them 
without  a  dispensation  from  the  bishop.  There 
fore,  this  marriage  was  null  and  void.  But," 
continued  the  learned  and  very  wise  Fiscal, 
uthe  motives  of  the  accused  were  honest  and 
pure,  and  it  is  my  opinion  that  the  matter  may 
be  settled  without  referring  it  to  the  bishop." 
Following  this  decision  came  one  rendered 
by  the  Padre  of  San  Gabriel,  who  firmly  be 
lieved  in  a  law  that  would  levy  a  tax  on  all 
breath  drawn  through  American  lungs,  and  it 
read:  "Christi  nomine  invocato,  the  Fiscal  has 
not  substantiated  his  accusations;  the  marriage 
at  Valparaiso,  though  not  legitimate,  is  not 
null,  but  valid;  I  therefore  order  the  parties  to 
be  set  at  liberty,  and  the  wife  given  up  to  her 
husband;  and  that  they  be  velados  next  Sun- 


THE      PENANCE      BELL 

day,  receiving  the  sacraments  that  should  have 
preceded  the  marriage  ceremony.  Yet,  consid 
ering  the  great  scandal  which  Don  Enrique 
has  caused  in  this  province,  I  condemn  him  to 
give,  as  a  penance  and  reparation,  a  bell  of  at 
least  fifty  pounds  in  weight  for  the  church  at 
Los  Angeles,  which  has  only  a  borrowed  one. 
And  further,  I  command  the  couple  to  present 
themselves  in  church  with  lighted  candles  in 
their  hands  to  hear  high  mass  for  three  dios 
festivoS)  and  recite  together  for  thirty  days  one- 
third  of  the  rosary  of  the  Holy  Virgin." 

Let  us  hope  the  rosary  was  well  and 
piously  told.  As  for  the  fifty-pound  bell,  it 
never  rang  penance  for  the  Captain — he  forgot 
to  order  it. 


^$7 ana  and  Alizi-Pafioose 

A  Tale  of  San  Juan  Cafiistrano  J^Lission 


WANA  AND  AHZI-PAPOOSE 

A  TALE  OF  SAN  JUAN  CAPISTRANO  MISSION 


|NE  dreamy  afternoon  not  long 
ago  old  Antonio  told  us  this 
story  as  he  sat  perched  upon 
a  barrel  in  front  of  the  vil 
lage  store.  We  had  asked 
many  questions  concerning  the  history  of  San 
Juan  Capistrano,  and  he  had  answered  them 
all  with  a  readiness  that  bespoke  knowledge 
and  long  residence.  He  had  lived  there  for 
nearly  sixty  years,  and  knew  many  incidents 
of  the  days  just  succeeding  the  secularization 
of  the  Missions.  He  began: 

"Those  were  hard  days.     Many  of  the  In- 


m 


^4.*' 


MISSION  TALES 

dians  were  starving,  and  the  few  priests  who 
had  remained  were  even  worse  off  than  the 
Indians,  for  they  stood  by  and  watched  others 
eat  what  little  there  was  left.  The  hot  winds 
had  blown  many  days  from  off  the  desert,  and 
the  young  maize  was  parched  and  dying. 

"An  Indian  girl  stood  looking  far  out  to 
ward  the  low  hills,  evidently  watching  for  some 
person.  It  was  Wana,  beautiful  Wana.  She 
was  a  picture,  and  one  that  I  shall  never  for 
get.  It  was  the  last  time  I  saw  her.  Her 
figure  was  outlined  against  the  bank  of  faintly 
visible  hills,  dimmed  with  dust;  her  thin,  deli 
cate  hand  shaded  her  eyes,  and  for  full  half 
an  hour  the  girl  stood  like  a  bronze  statue, 
and  then  she  sobbed;  it  was  half  sob,  half  sigh, 
the  saddest  sound  I  ever  heard.  Wana  had 


WANA  STOOD  LIKE  A  BRONZE  STATUE 


WANA    AND    AHZI-PAPOOSE 

been  the  belle  of  San  Juan  Capistrano,  and 
when,  two  years  before,  she  chose  Jose  Ramon, 
the  handsome  half-breed,  all  the  young  men  in 
the  village  and  at  the  Mission  were  wild  with 
envy,  and  joined  in  the  dance  only  that  they 
might  be  near  her.  That  is  true.  Wana  cared 
only  for  Jose,  and  now  for  their  papoose.  She 
would  call  her  baby  Ahzi-papoose  in  the  most 
bewitching  way,  and  then  she  would  coo  to  it 
like  a  bird,  and  Jose  would  return  the  call. 
Why,  they  were  more  like  two  doves  than 
human  beings. 

"Long  in  the  afternoon  she  watched  the 
hills.  I  could  see  that  she  was  in  distress,  but 
when  I  approached  her  she  moved  away  with 
that  peculiar  Indian  reserve  that  repels  all 
advances.  Little  Ahzi-papoose  whined  and  fret- 


! 


r 


MISSION  TALES 

ted,  and  Wana  knew  that  it  was  from  hunger, 
but  she  had  nothing  to  give  her.  Wana  had 
eaten  nothing  herself  for  days,  for  the  food  that 
had  been  given  her  for  herself  and  the  child 
had  not  been  sufficient  for  the  child  alone. 

"Poor  Wana's  heart  turned  in  rebellion 
toward  the  priests  who  had  coaxed  her  to  leave 
the  hills,  where  she  had  always  had  plenty,  and 
come  to  live  at  San  Juan  Capistrano,  where 
the  sun  baked  the  maize  and  the  wind  dried 
up  the  water.  The  forests  were  too  far  distant 
for  her  to  go  to  gather  nuts  since  little  Ahzi 
came,  and  now  Jose  was  away  all  the  time, 
cutting  timber.  Wana  wondered  if  she  could 
reach  the  hills  if  she  started  when  the  shadows 
began  to  fall — and  perhaps  she  would  meet 
Jose  and  he  would  help  to  carry  Ahzi- 

(7*0) 


WANA     AND    AHZI-PAPOOSE 

papoose,  and  together  they  could  go  back  to 
the  hills  and  find  food  and  rest.  Wana  knew 
not  that  her  weariness  was  weakness,  for  she 
had  been  ten  years  at  the  Mission,  and  only 
twice  before  had  she  been  very,  very  hungry; 
but  now  she  was  always  hungry.  She  told  the 
Padre  that  she  was  hungry,  and  he  looked 
pityingly  at  her,  and  said :  c  My  daughter,  the 
Lord  give  you  strength  to  prevail,  but  I  have 
nothing  to  give  you.'  Great  tears  stood  in 
Wana's  eyes  as  she  sobbed  forth  a  piteous 
appeal  for  only  a  handful  of  maize  and  some 
milk  for  Ahzi-papoose. 

"The  Padres  had  sent  to  San  Luis  Rey  and 
to  San  Gabriel  for  help,  but  the  grain  had  not 
come.  Meantime,  the  Indians  were  restless  and 
hungry,  and  many  were  leaving  the  Mission, 


MISSION  TALES 

while  the  soldiers  and  Indian  guards  were 
unwilling  to  bring  them  back  to  a  home  where 
there  was  no  food. 

"Francesca,  a  daring  spirit,  and  a  sister  of 
Wana's,  had  that  day  startled  the  good  Padre  by 
asking:  {Why,  Father,  do  the  Indians  starve, 
while  the  Virgin  Mary  in  the  chapel  wears  a 
golden  crown,  many  jewels,  and  rare  silk  shawls? 
And  why  do  you  have  many  grand  ornaments 
in  your  church  on  the  altar  while  we  people 
who  come  to  you  from  the  hills  are  starving? 
Tell  us,  why  do  you  not  sell  these  things  and 
feed  us?' 

" c  Verily,  wisdom  cometh  out  of  the  mouths 
of  babes/  answered  the  Padre.  He  did  not  re 
buke  the  girl,  but  early  the  following  morning 
a  swift  horse  was  seen  carrying  the  Padre  in 

(JS») 


HPP1 

HHf 


WANA    AND    AHZI-PAPOOSE 

the  direction  of  Los  Angeles.  As  a  great  fes 
tival  was  going  on  in  the  city,  no  one  wondered 
at  the  Father's  going. 

"In  the  chapel  at  San  Juan  Capistrano 
there  is  a  small  figure  of  the  Virgin  Mother 
holding  the  Infant  Jesus  in  her  arms;  it  was 
there  then  as  it  is  now.  This  little  image  was 
the  especial  joy  of  Wana,  and  that  evening  the 
Indian  girl  might  have  been  seen  crouching 
before  it ;  holding  her  own  sleeping  child  aloft 
in  her  arms  and  beseeching  the  protection  of 
the  Holy  Mother,  for  Wana  was  going  after 
food.  She  noticed  that  the  handsome  silk 
shawl,  all  embroidered,  and  with  heavy,  long 
fringe,  was  gone.  But  as  the  dresses,  shawls, 
and  ornaments  were  frequently  changed,  she 
only  regretted  that  her  favorite  silk  was  not 


MISSION  TALES 

upon  the  Virgin  just  this  one  evening.  Quiet 
ly  slipping  out  of  the  chapel  with  her  little 
burden,  who  now  slept?  soundly  owing  to  a 
soothing  potion  administered  by  the  watchful 
and  loving  mother,  Wana  was  met  at  the  great 
arch  by  her  sister,  who  pressed  into  her  hand 
a  few  tortillas  which  she  had  been  able  to 
save  or  steal ;  for  she  would  have  begged, 
stolen,  and  even  done  murder  for  Wana's  sake, 
so  strong  was  her  love  for  her  unhappy,  starv 
ing  sister. 

"Wana,  being  married  and  of  good  char 
acter,  was  allowed  to  occupy  quarters  outside 
the  quadrangle  and  pass  in  and  out  at  pleasure. 
As  the  moon  rose,  a  slowly  moving,  lone  figure 
might  have  been  seen  gliding  toward  the  hills, 

dodging  each  shadow  that  seemed  to  move,  and 

(190} 


WANA    AND    AHZI-PAPOOSE 

lying  down  often  back  of  a  clump  of  sage  or 
chaparral,  while  some  imaginary  form  passed 
by;  for  Wana  had  left  the  Mission. 

"She  was  frightened.  She  feared  to  anger 
the  Padres  should  they  discover  that  she  was 
gone ;  but  most  of  all,  she  dreaded  meeting  a 
soldier,  for  she  had  often  seen  them  in  the 
former  days  coming  into  the  Mission  driving 
Indian  women  with  lariats  about  their  necks, 
making  them  run  along  by  the  side  of  the 
horses.  Poor  Wana,  she  hoped  to  meet  Jose, 
and  constantly  did  the  frail  bird  coo,  hoping 
that  he  would  hear  the  love  note  and  find  her. 
All  night  long  she  walked,  but  near  morning 
she  ceased  cooing;  and  it  was  then  that  Jose, 
little  dreaming  that  Wana,  his  beloved  Wana, 
was  not  half  a  mile  away,  urged  his  tired  pony 


MISSION  TALES 

on,  thinking  the  sooner  to  reach  her  with  the 
berries  and  nuts  that  he  had  gathered  after 
the  logs  were  cut  and  his  work  done.  And 
so  he  passed  her. 

"The  wind  had  gone  down,  and  the  night 
was  so  still,  and  they  were  so  close  at  one 
time  that  had  Ahzi  but  cried  or  Wana  but 
cooed,  how  different  it  all  would  have  been! 
Oh,  the  pity  of  it!  Weary,  thirsty,  and  weak, 
Wana  saw  the  great  red  ball  rise  over  the  east 
ern  range  of  hills  in  the  morning,  and  she  chose 
the  nearest  clump  of  sage  brush  and  scooped 
out  a  deep,  cool  bed  in  the  loose  sand  for  her 
and  the  little  Ahzi-papoose  to  spend  the  day 
in,  and  nestling  down  by  the  side  of  her  baby, 
she  watched  its  features,  waiting  for  the  bright 

eyes    to    open,  for    she    had    carefully    prepared 

(192} 


WANA    AND    AHZI-PAPOOSE 

a  sleeping  herb  so  that  the  child  might  sleep 
during  the  night  and  awaken  at  about  the 
hour  of  sunrise. 

"Fatigue  soon  closed  the  eyes  of  the  weary 
little  mother,  and  it  was  with  a  terrible  start 
that  she  wakened  with  the  baby  tugging  at 
her  braid  of  hair.  Wana  gave  the  child  some 
of  the  cherished  tortillas  and  a  gourd  of  milk, 
and  then  again  administered  the  soothing  potion 
for  the  day,  as  she  felt  that  she  herself  must 
soon  rest. 

"The  day  passed,  and  the  night,  and  the  next 
morning  came,  and  Wana  slept  on.  The  baby 
wakened,  cried,  and  scrambled  piteously  to  gain 
the  food  and  milk  which  the  mother  had 
placed  just  beyond  its  reach,  and  yet  had  not 
touched  a  bite  herself.  Hunger  had  passed 


MISSION 


TALES 


into  lethargy,  and  lethargy  into  a  sleep  that 
was  to  know  no  waking. 

"All  day  Jose  searched  for  Wana.  She 
had  wandered  far  from  the  beaten  track,  and 
even  from  the  Indian  trail,  for  she  had  been 
too  weak  and  weary  to  take  notice.  Francesca 
left  the  Mission  with  Jose,  despite  the  matron's 
order.  The  Padre  returned  and  asked  at  once 
for  Wana  and  Ahzi,  and  was  distressed  beyond 
what  he  cared  to  express  when  told  that  they 
could  not  be  found. 

"Francesca  came  back  in  the  evening  and 
burst  into  the  Padre's  presence,  hissing:  € Cruel 
viper  that  you  are!  For  silk  rags  and  gold 
circlets  you  have  killed  her ! ' 

cccStop!'  shouted  the  Padre.  cDare  you 
desecrate  the  Holy  Church  in  the  face  of  such 


WANA    AND    AHZI-PAPOOSE 

a  calamity?  You  should  be  upon  your  knees 
praying  to  the  Virgin  Mary  for  intercession 
and  assistance.  Know  you,  sinful  child,  that  for 
you  I  have  this  day  sinned  against  the  Church 
by  taking  holy  offerings  to  the  festival,  and  had 
lots  cast  for  them  that  you  and  your  sister 
might  have  to  eat  ? ' 

"Francesca  listened  with  wide-open  eyes,  and 
answered:  'Give  it,  give  it  to  me,  that  I  may 
take  it  to  them  or  that  I  may  never  return ! ' 

"The  food  was  given  to  her,  and,  without 
another  word,  the  Indian  girl  turned  and  left 
the  Mission,  never  to  return  to  it. 

"Wana,  Ahzi-papoose,  and  Francesca  were 
ever  after  spoken  of  by  the  Indians  of  San 
Juan  Capistrano  as  'the  children  of  the  Holy 
Mantle/  " 

Uftf) 


PIRATE  JOE 


I  RATES,  why,  of  course  we  have 
had  pirates!"  said  old  Uncle 
Poncho,  as  the  young  men  gath 
ered  about  him  jangling  among 
themselves,  some  claiming  that 
California  had  never  had  a  real  pirate,  and 
others  that  there  had  been  plenty  of  them. 
Uncle  Poncho  settled  it,  for  Uncle  Poncho's 
word  was  law.  He  continued:  "We  have  had 
plenty  of  pirates,  and  good  ones  too,  for  that 
matter.  The  first  one,  you  know,  was  Sir 
Francis  Drake  with  his  Golden  Hind  that  I 
told  you  boys  about  the  other  day.  We 
cannot  claim  him  altogether,  for  he  came  here 


MISSION 


TALES 


before  our  Missions  were  established,  and 
consequently  did  little  harm  to  us;  but  later 
there  was  one  fine,  brave,  sassy  fellow  that 
came  here  to  Monterey  first,  and  then  fol 
lowed  down  the  coast  to  San  Juan  Capistrano, 
and  then  disappeared  forever.  Do  you  want 
me  to  tell  you  about  him  and  Pirate  Joe  ? 
If  you  do,  you  have  all  got  to  be  mighty 
still/' 

uOh,  yes,  uncle,  we'll  be  pious  if  you  say 
so,  if  you'll  just  keep  a-talking  about  the 
pirates." 

The  old  man  was  in  his  element.  He 
knew  every  bit  of  history,  romance,  fable,  and 
fiction  told  of  thi$"  glorious  Western  State,  and 
if  he  sometimes  mixed  the  knowledge,  it  was 
due  to  the  nature  of  the  audience. 

(200) 


PIRATE        JOE 

"Well,  boys,  this  pirate's  name  was  Buchar." 

"Why,  I  thought  you  said  it  was  Joe?" 
broke  in  one  of  the  fellows. 

"Now,  see  here,  young  man,  I  want  no 
more  of  that.  Your  job  is  to  listen,  and  I '11 
come  to  the  cjoe'  part. 

"As  I  said  before,  this  man's  name  was 
Buchar;  he  was  a  Frenchman,  and  you  spell 
it  B-o-u-c-h-a-r-d,"  slowly  spelt  out  the  old 
man.  "He  came  from  that  South  American 
province,  Buenos  Ayres,  and  the  ruler  had 
given  him  a  letter  of  marque,  that  is,  a  regular 
permit  to  poach  upon  other  countries'  commerce 
or  ships  at  sea. 

"It  was  on  the  afternoon  of  November  20, 
1818,  that  a  sentinel  stationed  off  Point  Pinos 
out  there,"  waving  his  hand  toward  the  point, 

(201) 


B 


MISSION  TALES 

"reported  two  vessels  in  sight  headed  for  Mon 
terey.  One  was  a  little  thing,  but  the  other 
one  was  big,  and  black  as  thunder.  The  sen 
tinel  called  her  'frigata  negra'  (black  frigate), 
and  the  other  one  'frigata  chica*  (little  frigate). 
The  Spaniards  had  been  looking  a  month  for 
these  pirates,  and  there  had  been  so  many 
cries  of  c Wolf,  wolf,  wolf!'  that  Governor  Sola 
hardly  knew  whether  to  prepare  the  guns  or 
not. 

"But  when  the  sentinel  announced  that  the 
one  ship,  instead  of  looking  like  a  great  white 
swan  and  floating  a  well-known  flag,  came  like 
a  great  black  hawk  and  floated  an  unknown 
banner,  there  was  no  further  time  lost.  Sola 
sent  his  men,  on  the  run,  under  Ensigns 
Manuel  Gomez  and  Jose  Estrada,  down  to  the 

(202) 


ON  IT  CAME,  LIKE  A  GREAT  BLACK.  HAWK. 


; 


PIRATE        JOE 

shore  battery;  while  he  saw  that  the  women 
and  children  were  hustled  off  at  once  into  the 
interior.  They  were  sent  to  the  Mission  of 
Soledad  with  all  the  provisions  they  could 
gather  together. 

"Like  hawks  of  unrest,  the  two  vessels 
sailed  around  all  day,  just  out  of  hailing 
distance;  and  when  night  closed  in  good  and 
dark,  about  eleven  o'clock,  the  'chica*  came 
quietly  pushing  her  nose  right  into  the  harbor 
and  cast  anchor.  Our  men  were  on  watch, 
and  as  soon  as  they  found  she  was  settled, 
they  hailed  her.  Making  a  trumpet  of  his 
hands,  one  of  our  men  shouted:  'Ship  ahoy! 
What  ship  is  that,  and  where  do  you  hail 
from?'" 

Uncle  Poncho  suited  the  action  to  the 
(*») 


'• 


m 


MISSION  TALES 

words,  and  every  man  sprang  to  his  feet  at 
the  terrible  shout  he  gave. 

"And  will  you  believe  me,  the  impudent, 
daring  devils  sent  back  an  answer  in  English: 
cWe  can't  understand.' 

"Our  men  repeated  the  inquiry,  adding  the 
order  to  send  a  boat  ashore  with  the  ship's 
papers.  But  the  stranger  said  that  they  would 
attend  to  all  formalities  in  the  morning. 

"Now,  as  for  the  ships,  they  proved  in  the 
morning  to  be  La  Gentila — that  was  the  'frigata 
negro* — and  the  Santa  Rosa  Liber  tad — the  'fri- 
gata  chica.'  Both  were  in  command  of  Captain 
Hippolyte  Bouchard,  the  buccaneer.  The  black 
vessel  carried  thirty-eight  heavy  guns  and  two 
violent es,  or  light  howitzers;  the  little  one  car 
ried  twenty-six  guns,  and  her  officer  was  Lieu- 


PIRATE        JOE 

tenant  Pedro  Conde;  together  their  force  of 
men  was  two  hundred  and  eighty-five — men  of 
all  nations,  colors,  and  kinds.  Now,  there  are 
some  later  so-called  historians  who  say  there 
were  three  hundred  and  fifty  men  on  board, 
but  two  hundred  and  eighty-five  is  enough  for 
me,  and  every  one  of  them  had  two  wives. 
I'll  tell  you  about  them  later.  So  you  can  see, 
boys,  what  big  ships  they  must  have  been  to 
carry  all  those  people,  and  the  tons  and  tons 
of  gold  and  silver  and  jewels  and  valuable 
stuff  that  the  pirates  got  from  every  ship  they 
boarded  and  every  town  they  looted/' 

The  old  man  loved  to  make  the  stories  big 
and  watch  the  effect  upon  his  listeners. 

"At  the  first  streak  of  light  on  the  follow 
ing  morning  the  saucy  little  beggar  of  a 


MISSION  TALES 

Libertad  began  dropping  balls  right  down  in 
Monterey's  lap,  and  that  was  the  only  formality 
that  she  sent  in  the  morning  in  reply  to  the 
questions  of  the  night  before,  as  to  who  she 
was,  and  where  she  came  from.  The  unfriendly 
salute  was  returned  by  the  Spanish  sending  a 
terrific  fire  of  six  and  eight  pounders  straight 
at  the  two  vessels,  which  now  lay  close  together 
and  very  close  in.  The  fire  continued  on  both 
sides  for  about  two  hours,  when  six  boat-loads 
of  men  were  seen  to  go  from  the  little  frigate 
out  to  the  black  one;  and  that  was  evidence 
that  we  had  done  mighty  good  work  with  our 
balls  on  the  Santa  Rosa,  for  she  sent  up  a 
white  flag  and  begged  for  suspension  of  firing/ 
"The  Spaniards  told  them  to  send  an 
officer  ashore  at  once;  and  they  replied  that 

(206) 


*i^K~-   3- 


Pf" 


?l 


PIRATE        JOE 

the  officer  had  gone  over  to  La  Gentila.  But 
this  time  our  people  would  not  stand  any 
foolishness,  but  replied:  'Send  a  responsible 
officer  at  once,  or  firing  will  be  resumed/ 

"That  brought  a  boat  with  three  men;  one 
was  the  second  officer,  Joseph  Chapman,  and 
the  other  two  were  black  men  —  one  named 
Fisher,  and  the  other  a  native  of  Buenos  Ayres, 
without  a  name.  The  breakers  were  high,  and 
the  sea  rough;  and  when  near  shore  the  boat 
capsized,  and  the  two  negroes  struck  back  to 
ward  the  ship,  but  could  not  make  it,  the 
nameless  native  being  drowned. 

"A  lot  of  vaqueros  dashed  down  to  the 
water  and  began  lassoing  the  other  two  strug 
gling  men.  The  negro  was  easy  work  and  soon 
lay  high  and  dry  on  the  sand;  but  when  the 

(207} 


<•'••:/ 


MISSION  TALES 

lasso  fell  over  Joe  Chapman's  neck,  he  just 
trod  water  and  pulled  that  horse  and  rider  clean 
into  the  surf,  and  the  fellow  had  to  hollo  for 
assistance;  another  vaquero  landed  a  reata  over 
Joe's  shoulders  just  as  he  had  cleared  himself 
of  the  first  one,  and  he  just  caught  that  lasso 
and  pulled  the  man  and  horse  right  into  the 
water;  but  a  third  vaquero  was  quicker,  and 
landed  his  lasso  before  Joe  got  rid  of  the 
second  one,  and  so  together  the  two  vaqueros 
hauled  the  big  fellow  onto  the  shore  limp 
as  a  rag. 

"Now,  boys,  there  is  a  man  named  Foster 
that  says  the  lassoing  business  occurred  at  the 
Ortega  rancho,  down  near  Santa  Barbara ;  and 
I  'm  inclined  to  believe  him,  for  he  knows  a 

great  deal   more  about  Spanish   events   as   they 

(208) 


PIRATE        JOE 

occurred  than  the  Americans  that  came  after 
him  and  have  to  get  their  facts  from  such 
as  he. 

"When  Pirate  Joe  recovered  sufficiently  he 
began  a  long  series  of  excuses  and  lies,  as 
Governor  Sola  called  them,  and  for  his  pains 
was  promptly  locked  up  in  the  guard-house. 
When  Bouchard  saw  his  representatives  marched 
off  to  the  guard-house,  he  sailed  his  big,  black 
ship  right  down  upon  the  little  town  and 
demanded  its  surrender. 

"But  Sola  stoutly  refused  to  surrender,  and 
answered  that  the  Spaniards  would  fight  till 
the  last  drop  of  blood  was  shed,  and  never 
give"  up. 

"Matters    remained    that    way    during    the 

day  and  next  night.     All  night  it  drizzled  and 

(209} 


MISSION  TALES 

rained;  and  about  eight  o'clock  the  following 
morning,  the  black  frigate  was  seen  to  send  out  /A| 
nine  boats  loaded  down  with  men  and  arms;  l/t 
four  of  them  carried  small  cannon,  and  they 
all  headed  straight  for  Point  Potreros.  Sola 
sent  his  twenty-five  men  down  to  the  shore  to 
prevent  their  landing,  but  as  the  ship  and  the 
fort  had  both  recommenced  firing,  the  situation 
was  full  of  danger  for  the  few  men  on  shore, 
and  Governor  Sola  ordered  Estrada  to  spike  the 
battery  guns  and  retreat  with  all  the  men  to 
the  presidio;  for  it  was  evident  that  so  small 
a  garrison  as  was  stationed  at  Monterey  could 
not  withstand  the  attack  of  three  or  four  hun 
dred  men." 

"But,  Uncle   Poncho,  you   said  there    were 
but  two  hundred  and  eighty-five,  and  now  you 


~  V-^, 


PIRATE        JOE 


say  three   or  four  hundred,"  piped   up  one  of 


the 


boys. 


youngei 

"  Well,"  acknowledged  the  story-teller, 
"Governor  Sola  said  in  his  report  that  there 
were  three  or  four  hundred  when  he  began  to 
retreat,  and  I — and  I  don't  know  just  who  is 
right;  but  when  there  is  a  lot  of  people  after 
you  they  look  more  than  if  they  are  just  on 
a  ship  out  in  the  water/'  And  all  were  satis 
fied  with  the  explanation. 

"The  pirates  sacked  the  presidio,  carried  off 
two  eight-pound  guns,  and  spiked  all  the  others. 
Then  they  looted  all  the  houses  near  by  and 
killed  all  the  cattle  that  they  wanted. 

"While  two  of  the  pirates  were  looting 
General  Castro's  father's  property,  they  came 
suddenly  upon  a  pretty  young  girl  who  was 

(*//) 


MISSION  TALES 

trying  to  catch  a  horse.  When  she  saw  them 
she  fell  upon  her  knees  and  prayed  them  to 
do  her  no  harm.  They  asked  her  name  and 
why  she  was  there  alone.  She  explained  that 
her  mother  had  left  a  most  cherished  book  at 
the  home  when  they  departed  so  hastily,  and 
that  she  had  returned  for  it;  and  as  proof  she 
showed  the  book. 

"One  of  the  men  laughed  and  said  she 
was  a  good  girl,  and  sent  the  other  man  to 
catch  her  horse.  As  she  knelt  there  at  the 
door  of  her  own  deserted  home,  the  man  came 
to  her,  and,  calling  her  Senorita  Castro,  for 
such  she  was,  kissed  her  on  the  forehead,  and 
when  the  other  men  brought  the  horse  he 
helped  her  to  mount.  Then  he  swore  a  ter 
rible  oath  and  said:  'My  girl,  you  are  more 

(212) 


PIRATE        JOE 

brave  than  some  of  your  people  were  on  the 
beach  when  we  landed.  You  shall  go  back. 
Ride  fast!  for  there  are  others  of  Bouchard's 
men  who  would  not  treat  you  so  well.  My 
name  is  Pedro  Conde;  and  I  already  have 
two  wives  on  board  my  ship,  or  I  would  have 
taken  you  there.' 

"You  can  imagine  that  Senorita  Castro 
rode  like  the  wind  to  the  next  rancho,  for  that 
last  sentence  nearly  scared  her  to  death." 

"  I  would  n't  'a  been  afraid,"  said  one  of  the 
small  boys.  "  I  would  have  asked  to  go  with 
him;  but  then  she  was  only  a  girl." 

Poncho   continued  his  story: 

"The  pirates  got  about  five  thousand  dol 
lars'  worth  of  plunder  and  then  set  fire  to  the 
town  and  departed  for  Santa  Barbara.  On  the 


MISSION  TALES 

way  they  stopped  at  the  beautiful  old  rancho  of 
the  Ortegas,  where  Stephen  C.  Foster  says 
Pirate  Joe  was  lassoed,  and  the  pretty 
Senorita  Guadaloupe  begged  for  his  life  and 
offered  to  give  surety  for  his  good  behavior. 
cHe  is  such  a  handsome,  strong  senor,  it  would 
be  a  pity  to  kill  so  powerful  a  man/  pleaded 
the  charming  daughter  of  Ortega.  And  so  it 
came  that  Pirate  Joe  was  allowed  to  live,  and  he 
made  good ;  he  turned  out  to  be  the  handiest 
man  in  all  California. 

"He  was  known  as  cjose  el  Ingles/  for 
Senorita  Ortega  didn't  like  to  hear  him  called 
c Pirate  Joe';  but  in  reality  he  was  not  an 
Englishman,  but  was  born  in  Massachusetts, 
and  he  spoke  the  English  language.  Like  all 
really  first-class  pirates,  he  could  speak  lots  of 


PIRATE        JOE 

different  languages;  he  spoke  French  and  Span 
ish  and  English,  and  learned  quickly  a  lot  of 
Indian,  so  that  when  he  gave  an  order  it  was 
something  like  this :  '  Mon  Dieu !  Ventura ! 
vamos !  trae  los  bueyes  go  down  to  the  Playa 
and  come  as  quick  as  you  can  puede,  mite- 
ma/  And  Father  Sanchez  said  that  Joe  could 
get  more  work  out  of  the  Indians  in  his  unin 
telligible  tongue  than  all  the  major  domos  put 
together. 

"  When  the  pirate  ship  lost  Joe  it  lost  a 
good  man,  and  California  gained  a  better  one; 
for  the  longer  Joe  stayed  here  the  better  he 
got. 

"The  Ortega  rancho  was  one  of  the  largest 
places  in  California, — it  appeared  like  a  small 
Mission, — and  when  the  pirates  landed  at 


MISSION  TALES 

Refugio  and  marched  up  to  attack  the  place, 
they  expected  strong  resistance ;  but  instead 
of  that,  the  beautiful  old  home  was  deserted. 
The  pirates  looted  it  and  then  burned  it. 

"What  was  worse,  Bouchard  deliberately 
cut  the  throats  of  three  fine  stallions  imported 
by  Senor  Ortega  from  Mexico.  Perhaps  that 
was  in  revenge  for  the  Spaniards  having  cap 
tured  three  of  the  pirates.  There  is  no  telling 
how  they  rate  those  men.  The  captives  gave 
their  names  as  Lieutenant  William  Taylor  of 
Boston,  Martin  Romero  of  Paraguay,  and  a 
negro  who  called  himself  Mateo  Jose  Pascual. 

"Another  historian  tells  us  that,  when 
Bouchard  and  eighty  of  his  men  were  climbing 
the  steep  cuesta  de  Santa  Inez,  Carrillo  drove 
them  back  by  rolling  great  heavy  stones  down 


lliii 


PIRATE        JOE 

upon  them,  killing  five  and  severely  wounding 
two  more.  I  am  awfully  glad  if  he  did/'  contin 
ued  the  old  man,  "for  the  Spaniards  seemed 
to  be  getting  the  worst  of  it,  so  far. 

"The  pirate  ships  stopped  at  Santa  Barbara 
and  gave  her  such  a  good  scare  that  it  cheated 
her  out  of  proper  growth.  Here  Bouchard 
offered  to  exchange  prisoners,  and  when  Guerra 
finally  consented,  in  the  name  of  humanity,  to 
do  so,  what  do  you  think,  boys?  —  the  only 
prisoner  Bouchard  had  taken  in  all  that  time 
was  one  good-for-nothing,  drunken  man,  named 
Molina,  of  Monterey,  whom  everybody  was 
glad  to  be  rid  of;  and  we  had  to  give  back 
the  one  from  Boston,  the  one  from  Paraguay, 
and  the  negro,  Pascual. 

"Santa  Barbara  was  known  to  be  a  strongly 


MISSION  TALES 

fortified  presidio,  and  the  pirates  were  glad 
enough  to  leave  her  alone.  They  glanced  at 
San  Pedro,  but  saw  nothing  there  but  a  few 
caches  of  hides;  so  they  sailed  on  to  the  grand 
old  Mission  of  San  Juan  Capistrano.  But  the 
Padres  were  ready  for  them  there ;  they  had 
sent  all  the  sacred  vessels  and  church  orna 
ments,  carefully  packed  in  boxes,  away  up  in 
the  hills  to  Pala.  They  had  driven  the  stock 
far  inland  and  hidden  all  things  of  value. 
When  the  pirates  landed  there  was  nothing 
for  them.  The  women  and  children  had  fled 
to  distant  ranchos,  and  the  Mission  was  quite 
a  heap  of  ruins  from  the  earthquake  of  1812, 
which  you  remember  about;  and  so  the  place 
had  an  air  of  desolation  that  checked  the 
pirates.  The  only  thing  they  could  find  was 


PIRATE        JOE 

the  Padres'  storehouse  of  good  old  wines. 
They  drank  like  pirates,  and  then  boarded  their 
vessels  and  sailed  away,  and  were  never  heard 
from  again.  That's  the  story  of  our  pirates," 
concluded  Uncle  Poncho. 

"But  about  Pirate  Joe?"  respectfully  asked 
the  fellow  who  had  first  interrupted  the  old 
man. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  want  to  know  some  more 
about  him,  do  you?  Well,  he  became  one  of 
our  most  valuable  citizens.  He  could  do 
anything,  from  shoeing  a  kicking  mule  to  com 
pleting  a  fine  piece  of  surgery.  He  was  a 
carpenter,  a  blacksmith,  a  ship-builder,  a  doctor, 
and  he  could  mend  drums  splendidly.  For  the 
most  part  he  lived  at  San  Gabriel  Mission  and 
was  an  especial  favorite  of  Father  Sanchez. 


1 


MISSION  TALES 

He  built  a  wonderful  grist-mill  there,  which  is 
known  as  c  El  Molino  Viejo '  to-day,  and  he 
built  another  one  at  Santa  Inez.  Besides  that, 
he  helped  get  out  all  the  timbers  for  the 
Church  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Angels." 

"And  did  he  marry  the  beautiful  senorita  ? " 
asked  another. 

"Yes,  he  did.  In  1822,  he  was  duly  bap 
tized  in  the  little  Mission  Church  of  San 
Buenaventura  and  named  cjose  Juan  Chap 
man';  the  same  year  he  and  the  beautiful 
Senorita  Guadaloupe  Ortega  were  married  in 
the  chapel  of  Santa  Inez,  and  later  went  to  live 
at  Los  Angeles.  But  the  most  wonderful  thing 
he  ever  did  was  in  1 83 1 :  he  entirely  con 
structed  a  sixty-ton  schooner  at  San  Gabriel, 
fitting  each  piece  to  its  proper  place,  and  then 

(220) 


PIRATE        JOE 

had    it    carted    down    to    San    Pedro,   where    it 

was  put  together.     And  every  board  fitted  just 

" 
exactly.     It  was  launched  amid  great  festivities, 

and  christened  Guadaloupe. 

"Senor  Jose  Juan  lived  until  1849,  and 
died  an  honored  man.  He  was  a  great  pi 
rate." 


Dos  Hermanas 

(TJie  Two  Sisters) 


DOS   HERMANAS 

(THE  Two  SISTERS) 

T  was  Christmas  time,  and  the 
Alameda,  the  beautiful  wide 
avenue  stretching  between  the 
Pueblo  of  San  Jose  and  the 
Mission  of  Santa  Clara  was 
aglow  with  color  and  life.  The  broad,  sweep 
ing  willows  and  the  narrow,  stately  poplars 
spread  their  shade  over  a  joyous  throng  of 
young  people,  as  they  jaunted  along  the  way 
between  the  gay  little  town  and  the  quaint 
Franciscan  Mission,  where  they  were  going 
to  attend  the  festivities  of  " Noche  Buena" 
(Christmas  eve),  and  assist  in  the  presentation 


• 


MISSION  TALES 

of  the  sacred  drama  of  "Los  Pastores"  (The 
Shepherds),  a  play  that  was  annually  given  at 
the  Missions  of  California. 

The  merry  company  numbered  many  hun 
dreds,  and  they  were  scattered  along  the  entire 
three  miles  of  way  between  the  Pueblo  and  the 
Mission;  some  were  on  horseback,  and  many 
more  afoot.  Many  of  the  riders  wore  the  pic 
turesque  jacket  of  velvet  beautifully  embroidered 
in  silver  or  gold,  the  trousers  made  snug  at 
the  seat  and  widened  by  slashing  from  knee 
to  ankle,  the  open  edges  caught  by  silver 
or  shell  buckles  over  snow-white  calzoncillos 
(riding-breeches).  Others  wore  knee-breeches 
with  legs  wound  in  the  richly  embroidered  bota, 
or  scarf,  and  fastened  with  tasselled  garters  that 
hung  near  to  the  ground.  The  neat  riding-habits 


DOS  HERMANAS 

of  the  women  contrasted  strongly  with  the  elabo 
rate  suits  of  the  men. 

Here  and  there  a  wedding  party  brightened 
the  costumes  of  the  ladies,  and  the  pedestrians 
added  still  greater  gayety  to  the  color  and  scene. 
The  horses  were  by  no  means  a  small  part  of 
the  bright  cavalcade. 

In  the  olden  days  of  the  Padres  only  good 
horses  were  ridden,  and  the  trappings  were  a 
part  of  the  wealth  of  this  wealthy  country. 
The  saddles  were  of  the  finest  leather;  some 
were  embroidered  in  silk  or  golden  threads, 
others  were  most  artistically  stamped  or  carved 
in  flowers  or  intricate  designs;  and  many  of 
the  pommels  and  seats  were  of  solid  silver, 
with  a  long  |black  anquera  reaching  near  to  the 
ground.  On  this  occasion  many  of  the  head- 


MISSION 


TALES 


stalls  and  bridles  were  of  finest  filigree  silver 
or  made  of  softest  jet  black  leather  set  off 
by  elaborate  mountings  of  filigree  silver  or 
gold.  The  limit  to  the  amount  of  precious 
metals  used  for  the  many  decorations  on  horse- 
trappings  was  the  compassion  of  the  owner 
and  rider;  if  he  had  none,  his  horse  often 
carried  double  the  rider's  weight. 

The  pedestrians  were  decked  in  the  gayest 
festival  costumes,  which  varied  in  color  accord 
ing  to  the  taste  of  the  wearer;  but  the  major 
ity  of  the  women  wore  the  flounced  skirt  and 
white  embroidered  or  lace-trimmed  chimesettes, 
and  their  long  dark  hair  braided  in  two  plaits 
down  the  back;  the  matrons  wore  tall  combs 
and  gay  rebosas. 

The    quaintest    part    of  the    procession  was 


DOS 


HERMANAS 


the  priest  in  his  new  volante,  or  carriage,  with 
his  numerous  attendants.  The  volante  was 
home-made.  It  was  composed  of  a  long  nar 
row  box  swung  on  a  pair  of  low  wheels.  The 
width  barely  accommodated  the  portly  person  of 
the  priest.  To  add  to  the  comfort,  in  the  absence 
of  springs,  the  box  was  well  padded  with  softest 
lamb's  wool,  and  over  all  was  thrown  a  rich 
white  robe  of  albatross,  that  made  a  fitting 
background  for  the  magnificently  embroidered 
church  vestments  that  the  Padre  wore.  His 
bared  head  and  dignified  countenance  became 
well  the  scene.  The  volante  was  drawn  by 
a  great  white  mule,  and  perched  on  its  back 
was  a  tiny,  very  brown  Indian  boy,  whose 
short  legs  scarcely  spanned  the  broad  back  of 
the  huge  animal;  his  wee  hands  clutched  the 


MISSION  TALES 

quaint    twisted  rope  of  green    hide   that  served 
for  bridle  and  harness. 

The  mule  was  guided,  in  fact,  by  an  expe 
rienced  Indian  rider,  who  rode  at  its  head  and 
held  firmly  the  end  of  the  stout  reata  that  was 
about  the  mule's  neck.  Two  outriders  rode 
prancing,  dancing  horses,  and  they  assisted  the 
volante  over  the  rough  places  by  means  of 
lassoes  hitched  to  the  axle-tree  and  used  as 
taut  guy-lines.  Their  gay  costumes  of  bright 
green  satin  breeches,  with  botas  of  scarlet  em 
broidered  in  gold  thread,  their  black  velvet 
jackets  almost  covered  with  silver  embroidery, 
and  their  wide  sombreros  with  silver  trimmings 
added  greatly  to  the  brilliancy  of  the  equipage. 
The  Padre  was  attended  by  his  choir  boys, 
altar  boys,  and  alcaides  of  the  Mission. 

(230) 


DOS  HERMANAS 

Close  by,  and  a  part  of  the  Father's  pro 
cession,  was  a  gay  wedding  party.  It  consisted 
of  two  brides — twin  sisters — and  a  large  num 
ber  of  friends  who  were  invited  to  attend  the 
wedding  that  was  to  take  place  immediate 
ly  after  the  presentation  of  "Los  Pastores." 
Carmencita  and  Rosalie  were  two  beautiful 
young  girls,  favorites  with  all,  and  so  perfectly 
alike  in  face  and  figure  that  the  most  intimate 
friends  were  frequently  mistaken  in  their 
identity.  The  most  striking  individuality  was 
that  Carmencita  was  more  quiet  and  somewhat 
grave  at  times,  while  Rosalie  was  always  gay 
and  laughing.  To-day  one  rode  in  front  of 
her  father  on  his  spirited  horse  and  the  other 
in  front  of  the  brother.  The  gay  friends  in 
sisted  that  each  of  the  two  lovers  knew  his 


v 


MISSION 


TALES 


bride-elect  only  by  remembering  that  she  rode 
with  the  father,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  with  the 
brother.  It  was  no  uncommon  prank  for  the 
girls  to  exchange  themselves,  as  they  called  it, 
and  thus  tease  their  sweethearts. 

Their  wedding  dresses  of  filmy  white  lace 
and  exquisite  drawn-work,  done  in  the  intricate 
butterfly  design,  made  them  appear  more  dainty 
and  more  beautiful  than  ever.  Each  wore 
long  strings  of  pearl  beads  about  the  bared 
neck  and  around  the  plump  arms,  which  had 
no  sleeves  to  cover  their  rosy  freshness.  A 
beautifully  wrought  gold  heart  lay  on  each 
throat,  the  love  token  from  the  bridegroom. 

The  day  was  one  of  those  rich,  balmy, 
warm,  sunny  winter  days  of  California  that 
keep  all  her  people  young. 

(«*) 


DOS  HERMANAS 

When  the  procession  arrived  at  the  Mission 
Church,  the  floor  of  the  chapel  was  quickly 
cleared  of  all  benches  and  prepared  for  the 
presentation  of  the  religious  drama.  The  spec 
tators  arranged  themselves  about  the  walls  in 
rows,  that  each  might  see  to  the  best  possible 
advantage. 

Distant  music  of  voices  was  heard,  and  the 
tinkling  of  the  guitars  within  the  church  told 
the  waiting  audience  that  the  procession  of  "Los 
Pastores"  was  entering.  Heading  the  procession 
were  the  shepherds  and  singers,  followed  closely 
by  the  Archangel  Michael,  Lucifer,  a  character 
representing  Satan,  and  a  lazy,  clownish  fellow 
named  Bartolo.  Having  passed  several  times 
around  the  church,  the  chorus  singers  retreated 
to  the  choir-loft,  and  the  first  act  of  the  play 


asr*dB>.«ai 


•€te# 


MISSION  TALES 

was  begun.  As  there  was  no  scenery,  nor 
varying  lights  to  signify  day  or  night,  the 
simple  story  was  told  in  the  music,  with  the 
assistance  of  a  very  little  of  crudest  acting. 

But  the  music  was  so  beautiful  and  the 
surroundings  were  so  appropriate,  that  when 
the  shepherds  sang  of  tending  their  flocks  by 
night,  the  absence  of  the  sheep  was  not  felt, 
and  the  dim  vaulted  roof  of  the  church  con 
veyed  the  idea  of  starlit  heavens.  The  approach 
of  the  angel  in  a  vision  announcing  the  birth 
of  Christ  was  told  in  the  hymn;  and 
the  shepherds  followed  the  sweet  voice  of  the 
singer,  as  he  led  them  across  the  church  on 
their  way  to  the  manger  that  they  might  see 
Him  and  adore  Him. 

The    appearance    of   Satan    at    this   critical 
(«*) 


DOS  HERMANAS 

moment,  with  his  sarcasm  and  discordant  notes 
and  jibes,  jarred  upon  the  listeners;  and  the 
conflicting  influences  exerted  on  the  shepherds 
by  the  angel  and  Satan  in  their  efforts  to 
persuade  them  —  the  one  to  go,  and  the  other 
not  to  go  —  was  soon  reflected  upon  the  audi 
ence,  who  gave  vent  to  their  feelings  in  ap 
plause.  The  godly  and  religious  applauded  the 
angel  and  encouraged  him  to  further  persua 
sions,  by  shouts  of  "Bravo"  and  "  Muy 
buena"  while  the  boys  and  rabble  enjoyed 
hugely  the  part  taken  by  Satan.  His  horns 
and  tail  and  cloven  feet  were  commented  upon 
and  snatched  at  by  the  most  daring.  The  one 
lazy,  good-for-nothing  shepherd  boy,  Bartolo, 
lay  still  on  his  sheepskin,  shouting  rude  person 
al  jokes  and  hits  at  the  audience,  perfectly 


- 


MISSION  TALES 

convulsing  the  rough  element  and  fascinating 
the  younger  boys. 

The  ascendency  of  good  over  evil  was  re 
ceived  with  great  satisfaction  by  the  majority; 
and  when  the  shepherds  followed  Archangel 
Michael  from  the  centre  of  the  church  amid 
rounds  of  applause,  even  the  lazy  Bartolo 
gathered  up  his  dirty  sheepskin  and  followed 
the  actors  from  the  scene,  quietly  though  reluc 
tantly. 

In  the  third  act  the  music  tells  the  story. 
It  is  of  the  scene  in  the  stable  where  Mary 
and  Joseph  and  the  Infant  Son,  Jesus,  are 
receiving  the  Wise  Men  with  their  magnificent 
presents.  The  music  finished  with  a  volume  of 
song  announcing  the  world's  Redeemer  and 
Saviour.  The  drama  closed  by  the  shepherds 


DOS  HERMANAS 

rushing  from  the  church,  pursued  by  Satan 
and  the  angel,  who  immediately  engaged  in  a 
personal  combat,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  the 
boys.  But  again  the  evil  one  was  worsted, 
and  to  hide  his  discomfiture  he  rushed  at  a 
wild-eyed,  scared-looking  Indian  and  chased 
him  down  the  Alameda,  until  by  chance  he 
tripped  and  fell,  and  the  devil  landed  him  a 
terrible  blow  with  the  flat  of  his  sword;  where 
upon  the  Indian,  now  completely  terrified, 
jumped  to  his  feet  and  protected  himself  with 
a  wicked-looking  knife.  If  the  crowd  had  not 
interfered  quickly  and  surely,  Satan  would  have 
indeed  lost  the  day. 

During  the  presentation  of  "Los  Pastores," 
Carmencita  and  Rosalie,  who  sang  in  the  choir, 
forgot  in  many  places  to  sing,  for  they  were 


MISSION  TALES 

busily  discussing  their  own  future.  The  im 
pulsive  little  Rosalie  suddenly  said  to  her 
sister,  "Carmencita,  mia,  I  cannot  be  married 
to-day,  and  I  cannot  tell  you  the  reason 
why." 

"But  we  have  arranged  to  be  married,  her- 
mana  carina,  what  may  we  do?"  replied  the 
quiet  sister.  "But  in  truth  I  care  not  either, 
whether  we  are  married  to-day  or  not,  for  my 
heart  is  sad  with  a  heavy  secret. 

"  Tell  me,  mia  carisima^  tell  me  quick, 
why  you  are  sad,  for  you  know  you  must 
keep  no  secrets  from  me,  nuestra  Rosalie.  Come, 
whisper  to  me  and  tell  me  all." 

Caressingly  the  loving  little  bird  begged 
of  the  other  one  to  unburden  her  more  serious 
heart,  and  while  the  music  of  the  sacred  love 


DOS  HERMANAS 

of  Christ  for  the  world  was  being  given  around 
and  about  them,  the  two  sisters  learned  for  the 
first  time  that  each  held  a  secret  from  the 
other,  and  that  both  secrets  deeply  concerned 
their  lives. 

After  a  pause,  and  as  the  quiet  strains  of 
sweet  music  filled  the  church,  Carmencita  said, 
"Rosalie,  promise  me  while  you  kneel  here  on 
your  knees  that  you  will  never,  never  tell  what 
I  tell  you.  Swear  it,  Rosalie,  say,  (I  swear/ ' 

"I  swear/'  answered  the  girl. 

"I  love  another,"  whispered  her  sister,  and 
her  eyes  shot  a  glance  of  defiance  toward  her 
dashing,  gay  lover  who  knelt  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  choir. 

"Ah,  Holy  Mother  of  Christ,  and  so  do 
I,"  said  Rosalie. 


A  -^f 


MISSION  TALES 

The  sisters  clasped  hands  and  each  told  a 
bead. 

"  Rosalie,  Rosalie,  who  can  it  be  ?" 

"I  dare  not  say,  Carmencita  mia;  but  now 
that  we  know,  let  us  go  to  Domingo  and  to 
Jose  and  beg  of  them  to  wait  until  another 
day.  Let  us  say  we  are  ill,  or  whatever  you 
please;  only,  I  cannot,  I  cannot  be  married  to 
day." 

"  Listen,"  said  the  quiet  sister.  "I  say  no, 
a  thousand  times  no !  Since  you  love  not 
Domingo,  handsome  Domingo,  I  fear  not  to  say 
to  you  that  I  do.  It  is  Domingo  that  I  love." 

Rosalie,  always  dimpled  with  laughter,  hid 
her  face  in  her  laces  lest  she  should  scream 
aloud.  Her  sister  thought  she  had  made  a 
grievous  mistake  in  telling,  and  with  fear 

(240) 


DOS 


HERMANAS 


in  her  heart  she  slipped  her  arm  about  the 
trembling  girl  and  peered  close  into  her 
face. 

When  the  girl  checked  her  laughter  so 
that  she  could  speak,  she  stole  a  merry  glance 
at  her  sister  and  whispered,  "And  it  is  Jose 
that  I  love.  I  thought  of  course  you  loved 
him,  and  that  he  was  lost  to  me,  and  that 
is  the  only  reason  I  consented  to  marry 
Domingo." 

By  this  time  the  impetuous  girl  was  fairly 
in  sobs;  and  Carmencita  spoke  almost  harshly 
to  remind  her  where  they  were,  and  that  some 
thing  must  be  done  at  once  to  stop  the 
wedding,  lest  each  should  wed  the  wrong  man. 
The  girls  sat  quietly  for  a  moment  and  then 
Rosalie,  quick  of  wit  and  quick  of  action,  put 


MISSION  TALES 

in  words  what  was  uppermost  in  both  their 
minds. 

"Let  us  exchange  and  never  tell  until  it 
is  too  late!" 

She  had  said  it,  and  both  were  startled  at 
the  thought. 

Carmencita  sat  looking  straight  ahead,  and 
when  she  -heard  her  sister  say,  "Will  you 
do  it?  Will  you?"  she  knew  that  she  would, 
that  she  must,  no  matter  what  came  of  it;  for 
her  love,  now  free,  rose  like  a  torrent  in  her 
breast. 

Very  solemnly  she  answered,  "Yes,  I  will 
do  it." 

Rosalie  said,  very  comfortingly,  "We  might 
as  well  be  pleased  with  our  choice  as  they 
with  theirs,"  a  thought  that  very  often  makes 


DOS  HERMANAS 

girls  wish  that  the  good  methods  adopted  by 
the  pious  Padres  with  the  Indians  of  early 
California,  were  yet  in  vogue,  when  they  annu 
ally  arrayed  the  eligible  young  men  in  a  row 
about  the  Mission  patio  and  allowed  the  young 
girls  to  pass  along  the  front  of  them  once, 
twice,  or  three  times,  and  then  announce  their 
choices  of  husbands.  As  the  young  folks 
comprised  one  large  Mission  family,  and  as 
they  frequently  met  with  each  other,  though 
always  under  strict  surveillance,  the  Indian  girls 
were  still  allowed  to  choose  their  husbands,  and 
that  was  exactly  what  Carmencita  and  Rosalie 
were  doing  to-day  in  defiance  of  prevailing 
custom. 

They  exchanged  the  golden  hearts  on  their 
breasts  and  made  a  few  secret  resolves  and  ex- 

(499 

mmi.s .    -"THwr " 


m 


1 


1 


MISSION 


TALES 


changes  of  experiences,  the  better  to  start  right. 
They  resolved  in  the  future  to  be  each  other 
—  Rosalie  to  be  Carmencita  and  Carmencita  to 
be  Rosalie — only  excepting  at  the  signing  of 
the  register.  In  that  they  would  be  honest. 
They  could  not  see  how  Domingo  and  Jose 
could  be  so  very  much  disappointed  when  they 
found  them  out,  for  their  own  older  sister 
seldom  knew  them  apart,  and  frequently  their 
mother  mistook  one  for  the  other.  Of  course, 
they  both  recognized  that  the  greatest  differ 
ence  lay  in  their  dispositions.  Carmencita 
saw  with  regret  on  many  occasions  that 
Rosalie  laughed  and  sang,  when  her  own  heart 
was  heavy  and  sad.  She  someway  felt  that 
to  gain  Domingo  would  unburden  her  whole 
life  of  sadness,  for  she  had  long  loved  him 


DOS 


HERMANAS 


most  devotedly,  and  it  seemed  that  to  be 
allowed  to  love  him  unrestrainedly  would 
be  the  whole  joy  of  her  life,  and  that  in  so 
doing  she  too  could  be  gay  like  Rosalie. 

In  the  frolic  following  "Los  Pastores"  the 
many  couples  who  were  intending  to  be  mar 
ried  arranged  themselves  before  the  good 
Padres,  awaiting  their  turn.  The  twins  were 
followed  by  many  friends;  and  when  they 
finally  knelt  at  the  altar  with  their  veils  shad 
ing  their  pretty  faces,  they  listened  to  their 
father's  voice  giving  them  in  marriage;  and 
finally,  when  the  silken  cord  was  wound 
about  their  necks,  yoking  them  indeed  to  the 
men  of  their  choice,  they  arose  and  followed 
the  priest  into  the  sacristy,  there  to  subscribe 
their  names  without  a  thought  of  the  men, 


MISSION 


TALES 


only  an  overwhelming  wave  of  real  happiness 
for  themselves. 

Each  received  her  husband's  first  kiss  and 
gayly  went  with  him  to  the  feast  and  fandango 
given  at  her  uncle's  home. 

"Why,  Carmencita  mia,  I  thought  you  did 
not  like  the  bunuelo,  the  sweet  cake.  How,  then, 
comes  it  that  you  eat  them  to-day?"  said  Jose, 
when  he  passed  the  crisp  fried  cakes  of  which 
he  was  so  fond.  He  had  always  regretted 
that  Carmencita  cared  so  little  for  them,  while 
Rosalie  was  so  fond  of  them. 

"I  shall  eat  of  everything  to-day,  Jose,  it 
is  my  wedding  day,"  answered  the  girl,  and 
she  touched  her  sister  that  she  too  might  take 
notice  and  be  on  her  guard. 

Now,  Domingo  cared  not  for  the  Christmas 


DOS  HERMANAS 

sweets,  but  was  fond  of  the  hot  enchilada^  and 
urged  "  Rosalie "  to  take  another  and  another, 
when  the  girl  cared  indeed  for  them  not 
at  all. 

The  gay  feast  ended,  the  party  repaired 
to  the  patio,  there  to  dance  until  misa  del 
gallo  (the  mass  of  the  rooster)  was  cele 
brated,  at  four  in  the  morning. 

"Carmencita,  you  are  wild  to-night,  I  have 
never  seen  you  so  gay,"  remarked  Jose,  as 
they  danced  dance  after  dance;  "you  are  more 
like  Rosalie  to-night.  I  have  so  often  tried 
to  make  you  gay  and  happy,  and  now  I 
know  it  was  only  to  be  married  that  you 
wanted.  You  were  afraid  that  I  should  run 
away  from  you,  and  your  fears  made  you  sad, 
eh,  mia  muchacha,  was  that  it?" 


*~^F?v5=*? 

'•<.»»«* 


MISSION  TALES 

"Why  did  you  not  marry  Rosalie,  who  is 
so  much  gayer  than  I,  when  you  wished  a 
gay  wife  ?  Doubtless  Rosalie  would  gladly  have 
married  you,  Jose,"  said  the  girl,  with  great 
joy  throbbing  in  her  heart  to  find  that  Jose 
had  always  preferred  her  gay  manner  to  the 
more  quiet  ways  of  her  sister. 

"I  married  you,  Carmencita,  because  I  love 
you,  only  you.  Rosalie  has  not  the  wit  nor 
the  kindness  of  heart  that  mia  Carmencita  has. 
Rosalie  is  a  little  chatter-box;  she  is  silly  and 
oftentimes  foolish."  The  girl's  deep  red  lips 
paled  and  the  dimpled  face  grew  pallid  white, 
as  the  man  continued:  "You  remember  when 
we  came  to  your  uncle's  last  summer,  how  well 
we  planned  for  the  future,  what  you  were  to 
do  and  what  I  was  to  do;  tell  me  again  you 

(248} 


DOS  HERMANAS 

will  do  it,"  whispered  the  lover  and  husband. 
The  girl,  so  brave  and  happy  a  few  moments 
ago,  chilled  with  the  prospect  of  trying  to  take 
up  the  strong,  sensible  webs  of  the  future  that 
her  sister  had  woven. 

"  Give  me  first  your  promise  again,  and 
then  I  will  give  mine,"  said  the  wife,  hoping 
to  catch  some  drift  of  the  past  conversation 
and  promise. 

"  Oh,  well,  I  will  say  it  again  and  again. 
No  more  flirting  with  Mercedes,  nor  Teresa, 
nor  —  nor  Rosalie,  no  more  cock-fights,  nor 
gaming,  nor  excess  of  wine,  only  love  on  my 
knees  to  you,  only  joy  where  you  are  and  our 
trip  to  South  America.  No  one  knows,  Car- 
mencita,  where  the  boat  lies  but  you  and  me; 
and  should  Domingo  know  that  I  told  you,  he 


MISSION  TALES 

would  curse  me  for  a  fool  and  take  those 
horses  from  me." 

"Oh,"  gasped  the  girl  in  such  a  fright 
that  Jose  drew  back  and  looked  sharply  at  his 
wife.  "What  is  the  matter?  It  is  all  right  so 
long  as  we  keep  the  secret;  and  there  is  no 
one  to  tell  so  long  as  Domingo  keeps  it  hidden 
from  the  foolish  little  Rosalie." 

"What  did  you  say  about  Rosalie?"  asked 
the  girl. 

"I  said  there  was  no  fear  of  any  one 
knowing  our  secret  about  the  money,  so  long 
as  Domingo  does  not  tell  that  silly,  foolish, 
stupid  Rosalie;  and  it  was  you,  Carmencita, 
who  said  not  to  tell  her." 

"No,  no,  Carmencita  never  said  that;  you  are 
mistaken,  Jose,  you  are  mistaken,"  gasped  the  girl. 

(250} 


DOS  HERMANAS 

c<  No,  I  am  not  mistaken ;  it  was  you,  yes, 
you  indeed,  who  said  neither  Domingo  nor  I 
should  tell  Rosalie,  for  she  told  everything  she 
knew;  you  said  that  she  could  not  be  trusted 
with  so  great  a  secret.  And  Domingo  said 
there  would  be  plenty  of  time  to  tell  her  after 
we  all  were  married  and  were  ready  to  go  or 
were  safely  away.  Now,  tell  me  your  promise 
again." 

"  I  promi-s-e  —  Ah,  Jose,  I  am  very  tired 
dancing;  I  will  have  a  wee  glass  of  wine  and 
a  bunuelo,  and  then  I  will  tell  you  my  prom 
ise  again.  I  think  I  shall  add  more  to  my 
promise.  Go,  please,  and  bring  me  the  wine," 
faltered  the  girl.  Anything  to  gain  time,  she 
cared  not  what  she  asked  for,  nor  where  Jose 
went,  so  long  as  she  could  be  alone  a  moment 


MISSION 


TALES 


-mm 


with  those  awful  words,  "  Rosalie  is  foolish 
—  silly  —  and  not  to  be  trusted  with  so  great 
a  secret,"  and  Carmencita  had  said  it  too! 

Jose  went  reluctantly  for  the  refreshments; 
he  could  not  understand  Carmencita  asking 
now  for  wine  and  another  bunuelo  when  she 
rarely  touched  wine  and  never  ate  the  sweet 
cakes.  It  puzzled  him,  and  made  his  brain 
whirl  more  than  the  wine  which  he  had  just 
now  promised  not  to  drink  of  so  deeply. 

As  he  disappeared  under  the  arches  and 
through  the  doorway  after  the  refreshments, 
his  wife  leaned  for  a  moment  against  a  cool 
ing  pillar,  trying  to  keep  back  the  tears  that 
sprang  to  her  eyes  as  she  thought  of  the  harsh 
words,  and  realized  for  the  first  time  the  im 
port  of  loneliness.  She  saw  that  she  stood 

UfO 


DOS  HERMANAS 

alone,  apart  in  life  as  a  waxen-faced,  empty- 
headed  doll ;  that  she,  a  bride,  must  look  ahead 
through  empty  years,  yet  living  side  by  side 
with  him  she  loved,  but  whom  she  had  cheated 
out  of  his  love.  There  was  no  time  now  to 
think  of  the  future,  but  she  must  act  for  the 
present.  She  must  find  Carmencita  and  have 
her  tell  what  the  promise  was  and  something 
of  the  mysterious  trip  and  boat.  Spying  her 
sister,  she  ran  to  her  and  whispered,  "Oh,  Car 
men,  come  quickly  and  talk  to  me."  Hurriedly 
she  told  what  Jose  had  been  saying  about  the 
promise  and  the  trip  and  boat,  but  did  not 
speak  of  the  slighting  words  about  herself. 

Carmencita  explained  her  promise  to  Jose, 
and  of  the  trip  and  boat  she  said,  "Oh,  sis 
ter  mine,  say  you  have  forgotten  about  that." 


til 


, 


MISSION  TALES 

"But  I  cannot.  He  says  that  you  and 
Domingo  and  he  all  know,  and  that  all  will 
be  lost  if  silly,  foolish,  stupid  Rosalie  knows 
about  it;  so  how  am  I  to  know  what  to  do?" 
blurted  out  the  girl. 

"Rosalie,  listen,  I  have  no  time  now  to  tell 
you  all  that,  and  so  you  must  get  out  of  the 
trouble  as  best  you  can;  you  got  us  into  it 
by  your  quick  suggestion  of  the  exchange, 
and—" 

"Well,  you  jumped  at  the  plan,  and  were 
even  more  anxious  to  carry  it  out  than  I  was. 
Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  I  wish  that  I  had  stayed  with 
Domingo;  he  never  called  me  silly  nor  foolish, 
nor  made  me  promise  a  lot  of  most  absurd 
things!" 

They  were    being    sought    after,  and  it  was 


DOS 


HERMANAS 


decided  that  Carmencita  should  return  to  Jose 
and  tell  him  again  her  promise  and  talk  with 
him  about  the  mysterious  money  and  boat, 
while  Rosalie  would  go  to  Domingo  and  take 
Carmencita's  place. 

Carmencita  had  quite  forgotten  to  instruct 
Rosalie  how  to  talk  to  Domingo,  and  when  he 
asked  her. to  continue  her  story  and  tell  him 
what  Antonio  had  said,  the  girl  tried  to  gather 
up  these  tangled  threads  by  asking  Domingo 
where  she  had  got  in  the  story  when  Carmen 
cita  came,  and  he  said, 

"Why,  don't  you  remember,  Rosalie,  that 
you  said  Viviana  went  to  Antonio  and  told 
him  that  the  Indian  was  waiting  for  him,  and 
that  the  freebooters  would  catch  him  on  the 
way  home  to-night,  if  he  did  not  send  them 


UftIS 


MISSION  TALES 

a  message  and  the  gold?  Now  what  was  it 
that  Antonio  said?  Did  he  send  the  gold? 
And  who  took  it?" 

Rosalie  laid  her  sad  little  head  on  Domin 
go's  shoulder  and  whispered,  "It  is  not  Rosalie, 
it  is  Carmencita  you  are  talking  to;  so  say  no 
more.  Rosalie  will  be  back  in  a  minute!" 
His  tender  eyes  grew  narrow  and  black,  and 
he  said  rather  harshly,  "  I  am  sorry  that  you 
girls  play  this  exchange  on  us  to-night,  for 
something  of  importance  has  happened,  and  I 
was  anxious  that  Rosalie  should  tell  me  of  the 
matter  at  once.  Let  us  go  and  find  her." 

Poor  Rosalie  guided  Domingo  about  rather 
aimlessly,  knowing,  of  course,  just  where  to  find 
Carmencita  and  Jose;  but  of  course,  not  wish 
ing  to  find  them  at  once,  she  did  not.  Sud- 


DOS  HERMANAS 

denly  they  came  upon  them;  Rosalie  ran  to 
Carmencita,  catching  her  about  the  waist,  whirl 
ing  round  and  round  in  order  to  confuse  the 
somewhat  angered  Domingo  and  to  tell  her 
sister  at  the  same  time  what  had  happened. 
They  walked  back  to  Domingo  while  Carmen- 
cita  told  Rosalie  that  all  was  explained  with 
Jose,  and  to  keep  away  from  past  experiences 
and  conversations  until  they  could  more  close 
ly  converse  with  each  other. 

Domingo's  wife  returned  to  him  and  finished 
the  piece  of  gossip  that  Viviana  had  related  to 
her,  knowing  well  the  import  of  the  story,  for 
the  messenger  sent  was  Hugo,  the  Indian,  who 
had  charge  of  the  boat  hidden  off  Monterey,  and 
that  contained  the  cargo  belonging  to  Domingo 
and  Jose. 


MISSION 


TALES 


;*'..-,•    VM 

9K&Z& 


Domingo,  thinking  she  was  Rosalie,  careful 
ly  guarded  the  fact  that  it  might  be  of  interest 
to  him  other  than  as  an  affair  of  his  friend 
Antonio.  He  began  other  conversation  by  say 
ing,  "Where,  Rosalie,  did  you  place  the  music 
and  the  embroidered  purse  that  you  gave  me? 
I  want  the  purse,  and  you  can  return  the  mu 
sic  this  evening." 

"I  do  not  just  now  remember  where  I 
placed  them,  but  I  will  find  them  for  you/' 
replied  Carmencita. 

"No,  I  wish  the  purse  now,  surely  you  can 
think  were  you  placed  it;  it  contains  a  card 
with  directions  that  I  want,"  urged  Domingo. 

"I  gave  it  to  Carmencita  to  take  care  of," 
said  the  girl,  "and  I  will  get  it  from  her." 

"Surely,  Rosalie   dear,  you    can    look    after 


DOS 


HE    R    M   A    N   A    S 


such  little  matters  and  not  always  go  to 
Carmencita.  Come,  shall  we  try  the  new  steps 
I  taught  you  last  evening?  You  danced  them 
so  prettily,"  added  Domingo. 

They  began  to  dance  with  the  music,  but 
Carmencita  had  not  an  idea  what  steps  Domingo 
had  been  teaching  Rosalie,  and  to  admit  so 
quickly  again  that  she  had  forgotten  would 
never  do. 

After  several  trials  and  much  jesting  about 
her  pretty  little  empty  head  that  could  not 
remember  a  few  new  dancing  steps,  Domingo 
said,  "We  will  try  some  other  time;  I  will  go 
now  and  see  Jose  for  a  while,"  for  he  was 
most  anxious  indeed  to  get  away  from  his  wife 
without  arousing  any  suspicion. 

Gladly  Carmencita  exchanged    Domingo   for 


MISSION  TALES 

Rosalie,  that  the  two  might  straighten  matters 
out  a  little.  The  girls  found  the  music  and 
the  purse  with  the  card.  Rosalie  showed 
the  steps  to  Carmencita,  and  then,  with  an  al 
most  bursting  heart  poor  loving  little  Rosalie 
told  word  for  word  what  Jose  had  said,  and 
sobbed  aloud  as  she  sat  there  on  the  steps  of 
the  chapel,  repeating  the  unkind  words  of  Car 
mencita  regarding  her  own  foolishness  and 
unreliability. 

Carmencita  was  dumb.  She  was  guilty,  and 
might  have  known  that  her  own  dual  life  could 
never  be  exchanged  fairly  for  the  pure,  out 
spoken  heart  of  her  twin  sister.  Already  she 
feared  to  be  found  out  by  the  rather  harsh 
Domingo,  whose  harshness  never  turned  upon 
Rosalie;  but  she  saw  in  one  evening  how  it 

(260} 


DOS  HERMANAS 

could  and  might  be  turned  upon  one  whom  he 
did  not  love.  At  last  the  girls  comprehended 
the  enormity  of  their  act. 

Domingo  and  Jose  came  to  the  sisters  and 
told  them  that  it  was  of  grave  importance  that 
they  leave  at  once  for  Monterey;  and  Domingo, 
looking  closely  at  the  two  girls,  spoke  directly 
to  Rosalie,  saying,  "Rosalie  mia,  bring  me 
the  card  that  I  have  need  of,  and  Carmencita 
will  tell  you  all  that  is  necessary  of  our  going 
away." 

Jose  had  told  Domingo  that  Carmencita 
now  knew  of  the  money  and  boat  with  its 
cargo,  and  that  she  had  advised  Domingo  to 
tell  Rosalie  such  facts  as  were  necessary  for  her 
to  know.  As  he  had  no  time  to  tell  her, 
he  left  it  with  Carmencita. 

(jtfr) 


MISSION  TALES 

Quietly  the  bridegrooms  withdrew,  but  it 
was  not  long  before  they  were  missed  by  the 
gay  company  and  certain  explanations  were  de 
manded.  It  was  learned  that  a  band  of  free 
booters  had  sent  a  message  to  one  of  the 
company,  demanding  gold,  and  for  some  reason 
Domingo  and  Jose  had  volunteered  to  intercept 
the  demand.  No  one  save  Carmencita  knew 
that  the  young  men  recognized  their  own  ser 
vant,  Hugo,  as  the  messenger  from  the  outlaws ; 
and  if  they  knew  where  to  find  Hugo,  they 
knew  also  of  the  hidden  boat  with  its  cargo. 
Consequently  the  men  had  gone  to  defend  their 
property  and  prevent  the  freebooters  from  cut 
ting  loose  with  the  booty. 

When  the  early  mass  was  said,  and  the  gay 
company  were  exchanging  the  merry  greetings 

(262} 


DOS  HERMANAS 

and  good  wishes,  "Feliz  Noche  Buena!"  "Feli 
ces  Pasquas"  (Merry  Christmas,  Merry  Christ 
mas),  it  was  indeed  a  sad  time  for  the  two 
young  brides,  who  had  learned  so  much  during 
the  wedding  and  Christmas  festivities.  The 
cold  gray  of  the  Christmas  dawn  was  not 
colder  than  the  true  heart  of  little  Rosalie. 
She  had  drunk  deep  of  the  bitterness  of  life  in 
one  draught.  She  had  exchanged  Domingo's 
shallow  love  for  Jose's  contempt ;  she  had 
found  that  Carmencita's  glossed  endearments, 
like  frozen  iron  to  the  tongue,  wounded  the 
heart  they  touched.  In  one  short  festal  night 
this  gayest  girl  awoke  a  disappointed  woman. 
She  heard  from  Carmencita  that  a  wedding 
trip  to  South  America  on  the  little  boat  Dos 
Hermanas  had  long  been  planned  by  the 


MISSION  TALES 

others,  and  that  the  messenger  sent  to  Don 
Antonio  for  money  was  their  own  servant 
Hugo ;  also  that  if  he  failed  to  send  the 
money  he  would  be  kidnapped  on  the  way 
home  from  the  festival.  Few  knew  of  the 
boat,  and  fewer  still  knew  that  it  belonged  to 
Domingo  and  Jose. 

The  morning  came,  and  no  word  from  the 
bridegrooms.  A  week  passed,  and  the  news 
came  that  a  small  craft  had  been  sighted  by 
the  Pocahontas  and  when  hailed  had  given  the 
name  Dos  Hermanas  from  Monterey  to  Maza- 
tlan.  She  flew  the  Spanish  flag. 

The  girls  knew  that  this  was  their  husbands' 
boat,  but  feared  to  tell  all  they  knew.  When 
another  week  passed  and  the  men  did  not 
return,  they  went  to  the  priest  and  told  him 

(j&r) 


DOS  HERMANAS 

everything.  They  told  him  of  the  boat  and 
its  owners ;  of  the  messenger  Hugo,  and  who 
he  was ;  of  the  cargo  and  gold  already  on 
board ;  of  the  fears  that  Jose  had  entertained 
lest  the  freebooters  capture  the  boat  and  thus 
get  away  with  the  money.  And  finally  they 
confessed  to  the  good  Padre  the  exchange  they 
had  made  at  the  altar,  and  the  reason  for 
so  doing. 

Surprise  and  consternation  kept  the  Padre 
busy  deciding  how  best  to  treat  this  peculiar 
confession.  After  some  consultation  with  the 
good  Padres  from  the  neighboring  Missions,  it 
was  decided  to  tell  of  the  boat  and  institute 
a  search  for  the  missing  men ;  for  it  became 
evident  to  the  priests  that  the  men  had  been 
shanghaied  on  board  their  own  vessel,  as  it  was 


*=•-  uar 


MISSION  TALES 

most  certain  that  they  would  not  have  left 
willingly  upon  their  wedding  night  without 
sending  messages  to  their  brides.  The  girls' 
relatives  found  that  a  fearful  encounter  had  taken 
place  near  a  cove  where  a  small  boat  had  been 
seen  anchored  by  some  Indians. 

Months  passed,  and  still  no  word  came  from 
Domingo  and  Jose.  Carmencita  and  Rosalie 
were  changed  and  sad,  though  no  one  save  the 
Padre  and  themselves  know  the  whole  reason. 
The  spring  flowers  brought  their  fragrance,  but 
the  girls  heeded  them  not. 

Summer  came,  and  one  day  as  they  sat 
watching  the  new  arrivals  from  Monterey,  they 
recognized  two  browned,  familiar  faces  and  very 
slim,  almost  gaunt,  forms  step  from  the  stage 
and  hasten  toward  the  patio  where  they  sat.  At 

(266) 


DOS  HERMANAS 

the  first  glance  they  knew  Domingo  and  Jose, 
their  lost  husbands.  They  quickly  learned  that 
it  was  true  that  the  men  had  been  captured 
by  the  outlaws  on  Christmas  eve,  imprisoned 
on  board  their  own  boat,  and  forced  to  serve 
as  crew  and  sail  the  boat  south  to  Lower  Cali 
fornia. 

The  pirates  landed  at  a  port  in  Lower 
California  in  order  to  pillage  a  large  rancho, 
and  had  left  but  a  small  guard  on  board  to 
keep  watch  of  Domingo  and  Jose.  Up  to 
this  time  they  had  made  no  attempt  to  escape 
nor  to  do  anything  other  than  carry  out  di 
rections,  therefore  the  attack  made  by  them 
upon  the  small  guard  was  unexpected.  They 
quickly  overpowered  two  and  killed  the  other 
two  in  trying  to  defend  themselves.  They  had 

(267) 


MISSION  TALES 

counted  on  Hugo,  who  was  indeed  faithful  to 
them,  but  the  pirates  did  not  know  it.  Being 
now  in  command,  they  cut  loose  and  sailed 
out  of  port,  leaving  the  pirates  ashore,  ma 
rooned. 

"We  turned  at  once,  and  came  back  to 
Monterey  to  find  our  brides  and  take  them 
with  us,"  said  the  happy  bridegrooms. 

The  task  of  choosing  his  own  wife  was  left 
to  each  man,  for  the  girls  had  decided  not  to 
assist  them  in  any  way  or  manner,  but  on  the 
contrary  to  confuse  them  if  possible. 

But  again  Domingo  chose  Rosalie,  to  the 
humiliation  and  disappointment  of  Carmencita, 
and  stooping  over  he  said,  "I  know  you  are 
Rosalie ;  say  it,  mia  carisima.  It  is  a  long 
time  indeed,  but  my  heart  knows  its  home." 

(*») 


Z>    O    S  HERMANAS 

"Yes,  I  am  Rosalie/'  replied  the  saddened 
girl;  "but  we  have  a  secret  to  tell  you,  a 
secret  greater  indeed  than  the  one  you  kept 
from  me,  and  that  so  cruelly  crushed  my  lov 
ing,  confiding  heart  and  rudely  opened  life  to 
me.  Months  ago,  when  we  all  were  married,  I 
thought  I  loved  Jose  the  most,  and  Carmencita 
thought  she  loved  you,  Domingo;  so  to  satisfy 
our  own  hearts,  and  finding  that  many  times 
you  did  not  know  one  of  us  from  the  other, 
we  decided  to  exchange  and  each  marry  the 
man  she  thought  she  loved  the  best. 

"I  married  you,  Jose,"  continued  the  girl, 
in  a  hard,  cruel  voice,  "and  in  the  one  evening, 
I  found  my  love  turned  to  bitterest  hate. 
You  called  me  foolish  and  stupid  and  silly,  yet 

you    had    always    seemed    almost    to    love    me, 

(269) 


MISSION 


TALES 


ill 


and  I  found  that  you  were  untrue  to  your  best 
friend,  Domingo;  and  more  still,  I  found  on  that 
same  evening  that  my  most  dearly  beloved 
sister  kept  from  me  the  most  vital  incidents 
in  her  life,  telling  me  the  trivial  ones,  as  a 
mother  might  dole  out  bunuelos  to  her  child. 
Whether  Carmencita  loves  you,  Jose,  or  no,  I  do 
not  know;  and  I  will  not  live  with  you  as 
your  wife." 

The  two  men  stood  mute.  They  had  never 
suspected  such  a  state  of  affairs,  and  when 
the  always  silent  Carmencita  at  last  found  her 
tongue,  they  listened  to  hear  more  of  this 
strange  happening. 

<c  It  is  true,  alas,  all  too  true  what  Rosalie 
has  said.  We  treated  her  as  a  child;  and  I, 

who   should    have    shielded    and    protected    her 

(270) 


DOS 


HERMANAS 


V 


as  a  part  of  myself,  heaped  about  her  tne 
bank  of  disappointment  that  she  fell  against 
so  cruelly,  and  no  hand  dared  to  help  her,  for 
all  were  stained  with  the  mire  of  deceit.  She 
thought  us  all  as  true  to  her  as  she  was  to 
us.  Not  until  after  you  and  I  became  en 
gaged  to  be  married,  Jose,  did  Rosalie  consent 
to  become  the  wife  of  Domingo;  and  even 
then  she  told  him  plainly  that  she  did  not 
love  him  as  a  wife  should  love  her  husband, 
but  he  persuaded  her  to  marry  him.  While  I, 
seeing  that  Domingo  loved  Rosalie  and  not  me, 
turned  to  you  and  won  your  love,  when  per 
haps  Rosalie  might  have  had  it,  for  you  were 
always  so  fond  of  gay,  happy,  laughing  girls. 

"  From    the   day  of  our  wedding   and   your 
disappearance  my  sister  has  changed,  and  from 


MISSION  TALES 

the  gay  girl  of  cLos  Pastores'  festival  she  has 
become  the  sad,  disappointed  woman  that  you 
see;  we  three  together  crushed  a  pure,  true 
heart  with  one  fatal  blow,  but  I  was  the  one 
most  guilty. 

"We  have  talked  with  the  Padre  who  mar 
ried  us,  and  he  says  we  are  in  truth  married  to 
the  wrong  men.  But  as  we  answered  to  wrong 
names  in  the  marriage  ceremony,  the  marriages 
are  crimes,  and  therefore  are  null  and  void." 

"Let  us  go  at  once  to  the  Padre,"  said 
Domingo,  for  he  loved  the  sad-faced  Rosalie 
even  more  than  the  gay,  pretty  girl  that  he 
had  wooed. 

But  she  said,  "No,  go  you  and  have  the 
marriage  annulled,  for  the  Padre  will  annul  it. 
As  for  me,  I  will  not  again  go  to  the  altar." 


DOS 


HERMANAS 


Then,  turning  for  the  first  time  directly  to 
Domingo,  she  added,  "You  did  not  confide  in 
me  nor  trust  me  before  the  wedding,  you 
surely  would  not  have  done  so  after;  I  was 
but  a  plaything  for  you — an  empty-headed 
pretty  doll,  to  be  tossed  aside  when  you  tired 
of  me.  I  never  loved  you,  Domingo,  and  I 
told  you  so ;  I  thought  I  loved  Jose,  but  he 
killed  all  that." 

Jose  and  Carmencita  were  remarried  accord 
ing  to  the  law,  and  returned  to  South  Amer 
ica;  but  the  beautiful  Rosalie  spent  her  time 
in  affectionate  help  for  her  brother,  to  whom 
she  had  confided  her  sorrow.  He  tried  to 
reconcile  her  to  Domingo,  but  to  no  avail. 

Love  was  dead  in  her  heart,  and  Domingo 
was  not  the  one  to  reawaken  it. 


Teresa,  the  PofieJoutechom 


TERESA,  THE  POPELOUTE- 
CHOM   NEOPHYTE 


VERLOOKING  the  Popelou- 
techom  Valley  is  a  broad 
mesa,  swung,  as  it  were,  be 
tween  the  two  hills,  Gabilan 
and  Pacheco.  In  1797  this 
broad  plain  was  populated  by  three  thou 
sand  indolent,  comfortable  Indians,  who  seldom 
knew  want  and  lived  for  the  most  part  in 
peace,  although  there  were  many  tribes  and 
sub-tribes  of  the  Popeloutechom  people.  The 
Indians  built  their  huts  of  braided  mustard- 
stalks,  and  over  the  top  of  each  hut  was 
tossed  a  skin;  that  completed  a  home,  for 


MISSION 


T  A    L 


they   knew   of   no    furniture    nor    had    need    of 
any. 

A    clear,  cool   stream    crossed    the  vail 
the  foot  of  the  mesa  and  provided  the  Indians! 
with  fish,  which  they  preserved  with  salt  brought 
from  the  adjacent  Salinas  Plains.     In  this  :inaH 
ter    they    were    always    provident,  varying  theirn 
fish  diet  with  a  free  use   of  dried  grasshopper] 
and   various    bugs,  when    they  were    in    season] 
They  rarely  hunted,  but   were    content,  for  trm 
most  part,  with  a  diet  of  bread  and  fish.     Tnj 
bread   was   made    from    the  acorn-meal,  the  bi 
terness    being  readily  extracted    by  soaking  th 
bread   for  a  day   or   two   in   the  running  wat<£ 
of  a  stream. 

There    is    no    more     picturesque    or    more 
beautiful   valley  in   California   than   that  of  Sa| 

(278) 


TERESA 

Benito,  as  the  Spanish  fathers  called  the  Poj 
loutechom    district.     Here    on   June   24,    179' 
Father   Francisco    Fermin   de    Lasuen,  Superior 
of  the    Missions,   dedicated    the    valley    to   t! 
patron  Saint  of  the  day,  John  the  Baptist,  ai 
solemnly  founded  a  new  Mission  station  undei 
the  Spanish  name  of  San  Juan   Bautista. 

The    Indians    were    timid    and    unfriendl1 
but    the    Padres  had    learned    that  music  rarely 
failed    to    overcome    both    fear    and    hostility, 
so    upon    this    bright   June    morning,  when    a 
shining    white    cross    had    been    erected    and    a 
chime  of  sweet  bells  had  been  swung  upon  the 
outstretched    limb    of   a    great    tree,  the    good 
friars  quickly  transferred  a  strange-looking  b< 
from  the  back  of  a  mule,  and,  placing  it  whei 
the  sounds  would  carry  far  out  over  the  v 


MISSION 


TALES 


below,  began  to  turn  swiftly  the  crank  of  a 
small  pipe  organ.  Had  they  thought  for  a 
hundred  years,  they  could  not  have  devised 
a  more  effectual  plan  for  securing  the  attention 
of  the  large  band  of  Indians  quietly  sleeping, 
for  the  most  part,  in  their  little  mustard-stalk 
huts  in  this  village  of  Popeloutechom.  When 
they  first  heard  the  sounds,  they  fell  upon 
their  faces  in  fear;  but  as  they  continued  and 
they  found  they  were  not  dead,  nor  in  any 
way  injured,  a  few  of  the  braver  arose  and 
stole  out  toward  the  mesa  whence  came  the 
strange  sounds.  Slowly  they  approached  the 
tree  where  the  queer  "talking  box"  stood,  and 
when  they  were  within  hailing  distance  one  of 
the  Padres  spoke  to  them  in  their  own  dialect. 

Their  astonishment  increased,  but  their  fears 

(280} 


WHEN  A  SHINING  WHITE  CROSS  HAD  BEEN  ERECTED,  AND  A 

CHIME  OF  BELLS  HUNG  UPON  A  LIMB,  THE  FRIARS  BEGAN 

TO  TURN  SWIFTLY  THE  CRANK  OF  A  SMALL  PIPE  ORGAN 


TERESA 

were  allayed;  and  they  were  urged  to  return  to 
the  valley  and  call  the  Indians  to  come  to  the 
mesa  to  hear  the  music  and  meet  the  new 
friends.  They  did  so,  and  after  playing  the 
organ  for  an  hour  or  more,  the  good  father 
addressed  the  hundreds  of  interested  savages 
and  told  them  that  he  had  come  to  dwell 
among  them.  The  question  was  immediately 
asked, 

"Will  the  talking  box   stay?" 

"Yes,"  answered  the  Padre,  "it  will  stay  if 
you  will  help  to  build  a  hut  for  us/' 

These  indolent  Indians  consented  at  once 
to  help  the  Padres  and  their  assistants,  and 
all  because  of  the  music.  When  the  In 
dians  did  their  work  well  they  were  rewarded 
with  many  tunes,  but  when  they  were  care- 


- 


I   S    S    I    O    N 


TALES 

less  or  disobedient  there  was  no  music.  The 
wonderful  influence  of  the  music  upon  the 
Indians,  together  with  the  fact  that  one  of  the 
resident  priests  spoke  fluently  the  natives'  lan 
guage,  was  evinced  by  the  rapid  growth  of  the 
Mission  station. 

In  fifteen  years  the  Mission  of  San  Juan 
Bautista  had  erected  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
and  ornate  chapels  in  Alta  California,  which, 
together  with  the  necessary  buildings  for  the 
Padres,  living  rooms  and  dormitories  for  the 
neophytes,  storehouses  and  corrals  for  the  grain 
and  cattle,  formed  three  sides  of  a  patio  two 
hundred  feet  square,  with  the  corrals  leading 
away  beyond.  These  buildings  and  walls  were 
constructed  entirely  of  adobe  (sun-dried  brick 
composed  of  stiff  mud  and  straw  or  tough 

(282) 


TERESA 

>d    grass)    and     ladiello,    another    species    of 

:k  that  was  baked  in  a  subterranean  kiln; 
ana  all  were  capped  with  the  artistic  tejas,  or 
red  tiles,  making  sweet  concord  with  nature 
such  as  delights  the  eye. 

The  Indians,  with  only  a  few  teachers  and 
helpers,  had  done  all  this  work.  They  be 
came  carpenters,  brickmakers  and  bricklayers, 
blacksmiths  and  painters,  as  well  as  agricultur. 
ists.  During  this  period  there  were  many 
stealthy,  cowardly  attacks  made  upon  the  Mis 
sion,  for  the  Indians  were  treacherous;  but  for 
the  most  part  the  annoyances  came  from  the 
Indians  outside  of  the  Mission.  But  even  then 
there  was  always  some  friendly  Indian  to  warn 
the  Padres  and  avert  the  danger. 

Teresa,  a    very    beautiful,  earnest    neophyte 


MISSION  TALES 

Indian  girl,  was  one  who  always  proved  faith 
ful  upon  such  occasions.  She  was  a  general 
favorite,  both  through  her  beauty  and  her  gentle, 
kindly  ways.  The  Popeloutechom  natives  were 
not  favored  of  the  gods,  but  in  truth  were  the 
ugliest  of  all  the  Indians  in  California  Missions, 
and  therefore  Teresa  was  something  of  a  wonder. 
By  reason  of  her  beauty  she  held  peculiar  sway 
over  her  people,  and  dared  thereby  openly  to 
disagree  and  protest  against  disorderly  conduct 
of  the  Indians  in  their  treatment  of  the  fathers 
who  were  devoting  their  lives  to  them  and 
making  them  so  comfortable. 

Annually,  each  young  Indian  hoped  that 
the  beautiful  Teresa  would  choose  him  as  her 
husband.  As  the  years  went  by  and  Teresa 
chose  no  husband,  the  good  Padres  began  to 


TERESA 

chide  the  girl  seriously  for  not  making  a 
selection,  and  she  just  as  earnestly  pleaded  with 
them  to  allow  her  to  remain  at  the  Mission 
enclosure  as  their  servant,  as  she  had  no 
desire  for  the  serious  obligations  of  matrimony; 
and  she  was  allowed  to  follow  her  own  inclina 
tions.  The  marriage  vow  was  most  sacred  to 
her,  and  the  lightness  in  which  it  was  held  by 
her  people  greatly  distressed  her. 

It  was  the  custom  for  the  trusted  women 
and  children  to  go  up  into  the  Gabilan  hills 
and  gather  nuts  and  berries.  Upon  these  ex 
cursions  Teresa  was  always  the  leader ;  her  gay, 
merry,  singing  voice  and  joyous  ways  made 
the  journeys  occasions  of  pleasure.  It  was 
in  the  year  1815,  or  perhaps  1816,  that 
a  berrying  party  had  gone  to  the  hills  to 

Cafe) 


I   S    S    I    O    N  TALES 

camp  over  night,  for  the  nuts  and  berries  were 
scarce,  and  the  people  had  to  wander  far  before 
they  could  fill  their  burden-baskets.  So  it 
came  that  they  were  far  from  San  Juan,  and 
la  maestra  (the  matron)  thought  best  to  remain 
a  second  night  and  fill  all  the  baskets  before 
returning.  At  the  first  streak  of  dawn  the 

S/jta^BB 

party    was    out    again    searching    far   and    near, 

R^^^H 

and  as  all  the  gatherers  ate  nuts  and  berries 
they  chose,  no  lunch  was  prepared ;  and  so 

10  one  missed  Teresa  until  the  call  was  sound 
ed  to  start  on  the  return  to  the  Mission.  As 

>nly  the  religious  neophytes  were  ever  taken 
upon  such  trips,  the  loitering  of  one  or  two 

t     ^JtVXrlj 

did  not  disturb  the  Padre  or  la  maestra,  but 
weary  and  tired  they  all  trudged  slowly  toward 
:he  Mission. 


I 


TERESA 

When  they  were  nearing  San  Juan,  it  was 
discovered  that  all  were  present  but  Teresa. 
She  was  not  in  sight,  and  the  Padre  hurried 
forward  to  send  back  some  one  from  the  Mis 
sion  in  search  of  the  girl.  It  was  thought 
that  she  had  gone  too  far,  or  that  she  had 
become  fatigued  with  her  burden-basket,  and 
would  readily  be  found.  Late  at  night  the 
guard  returned,  having  found  no  trace  of  her. 
A  large  party  was  detailed  the  following  day 
to  return  to  the  hills  and  search  very  care 
fully,  for  all  believed  now  that  an  accident  had 
befallen  the  favorite ;  and  it  was  needless  to  say 
that  there  was  no  lack  of  ready  volunteers 
among  either  the  guards  or  the  male  Indian  neo 
phytes  to  go  in  search  of  the  pretty  girl.  For 
days,  in  fact  for  weeks,  the  search  was  contin- 


\ 


^f^¥  T  V  T  •¥*'; 


MISSION  TALES 

ued,  but  the  only  trace  that  was  ever  found 
was  discovered  by  the  first  searcher,  who  inci 
dentally  remarked  that  he  noticed  that  some 
horses  had  been  up  on  the  mountain.  But  no 
one  thought  to  connect  that  with  Teresa. 

A  year  and  more  passed,  and  Teresa  was 
mourned  at  the  Mission  as  one  dead. 

The  season  for  gathering  nuts  was  over- 
this  year  only  the  old  women  and  young  boys 
had  been  allowed  to  go  after  them.  The  Padre 
was  sitting  in  his  quiet  quarters  thinking  of 
the  strange  disappearance  of  the  beloved  child, 
Teresa,  when  a  faint  knocking  was  heard  at 
the  little  window  at  the  rear  of  his  apart 
ments.  It  seemed  nothing  more  than  a  twig 
brushing  against  the  iron  grating;  but  as  it 
continued,  the  Padre  rose  and  gently  asked: 


TERESA 


"What  is  wanted?"  thinking  if  any  one  was 
there  he  would  give  answer,  and  if  not  no 
harm  was  done.  A  faintest  voice  answered, 
"Help  me." 

That  was  enough.  The  good  man  fairly 
ran  out  through  the  corridor  and  around  the 
corner  of  the  building  that  brought  him  to  the 
rear  of  his  own  apartment.  Crouching  there  in 
the  cold  night  air  was  a  girl  holding  tightly  in 
her  arms  a  small  bundle.  He  raised  her  to 
her  feet  and  asked  most  soothingly,  "What  is 
it  you  need?  Why  are  you  here?" 

"  Oh,  Father,  it  is  Teresa." 

"  Teresa,  my  child,  Teresa,  is  it  truly  you  ? 
Come,  come  at  once  into  the  Mission." 

"  No,  no,  I    cannot   come   until    I    tell    you 

all,"  sobbed  the  girl. 

(jtfp) 


MISSION  TALES 

But  as  the  faint  cry  of  a  child   caught 
Padre's    ear,    he    answered,     "  It    matters    r 
what  has  happened.    Come,  Teresa,  into  the  Mi 
sion  and  we  will  care  for  you  and — the  child 

As  the  girl  tried  to  move  toward  the  ope 
gateway,  her  steps  faltered  and  she  fell,  fro 
exhaustion,  back  into  the  strong  arms  of  tfc 
holy  man,  who  quickly  picked  her  and  t 
child  up  and  carried  them  into  the  apartmen 
of  la  maestra. 

For    some    time    the    matron    worked    ov 
the  fainting  girl  and  cared  for  the  feeble  chil 
Toward    morning    Teresa    sprang    to    her    fe 
crying,    "My    child,   my  child,  what   have 
done  with  my  child?" 

When  assured  that  it  was  safely  taken  car< 
of,   she   gradually    became  sensible  of  her   sur 


TERESA 

roundings  and  burst  into  a  flood  of  weeping. 
The  good  matron  gave  her  some  broth  and 
a  quieting  tea  of  datura  and  tried  to  induce 
her  to  sleep  again ;  but  the  girl  asked  plead 
ingly  to  have  the  Father  come  to  her  and  hear 
her  confession. 

Gladly  the  Padre  came  to  the  relief  of  this 
distressed  child,  and  when  she  tried  again  and 
again  to  begin  the  story,  he  took  her  hand 
quietly  and  said:  "Thy  sins  are  forgiven.  He 
that  covereth  his  sins  shall  not  prosper;  but 
whoso  confesseth  and  forsaketh  them  shall 
have  mercy.  Speak,  daughter,  and  unburden 
your  heart,  for  your  great  grief  proveth  your 
sorrow." 

Thus  encouraged,  the  girl  sobbed  out  the 
story  of  her  past  year's  life. 


MISSION 


TALES 


"When  we  were  gathering  nuts,  more  than 
a  year  ago,  I  strayed  far  up  the  hillside  where 
a  great  tree  rests.  And  as  I  bended  over, 
with  my  eyes  close  on  the  ground,  I  did  not 
see  or  hear  any  one  approach,  until  a  scrape, 
or  great  blanket,  was  thrown  over  me,  and  I 
was  gathered  up  in  a  bundle  and  tied  thus 
and  placed  on  a  horse  and  carried,  cruelly  car 
ried,  a  long  distance  ere  the  wrapping  was  re 
moved.  The  lack  of  air  and  the  fright  made 
me  unconscious.  When  I  awakened,  a  man,  a 
soldier  from  Mission  Carmel,  named  Felipe 
Guzman,  stood  over  me,  chafing  my  hands  and 
drenching  me  with  aguardiente.  When  I  tried 
to  rise  and  call  for  help  I  found  that  I  was 
hobbled;  and  Felipe  said  with  a  laugh,  fAh,  my 
pretty  one,  it  is  not  often  we  find  so  charming  a 

(292) 


TERESA 

wild  flower,  and  I  am  glad  to  be  the  lucky  man/ 
I  answered  him  in  the  same  Spanish,  and  he 
was  greatly  pleased,  and  called  to  the  other  men 
that  he  had  indeed  captured  a  prize.  £She  can 
speak  the  language/  he  said. 

"I  begged  of  them  to  release  me,  and  explained 
that  I  came  from  San  Juan  Bautista  Mission, 
and  that  the  Padres  would  look  for  me;  but  all 
the  answer  I  got  was,  'Doubtless  the  Padres 
will  look  for  you,  for  they  seldom  find  such 
a  jewel,  and  the  Padres  know  a  pretty  girl 
when  they  see  one/  As  soon  as  I  was  able  to 
rise,  I  was  placed  on  a  horse  and  strapped 
there.  I  thought  I  was  to  be  taken  to  the 
Mission  of  Carmel,  as  I  heard  them  talk  of 
that  Mission;  but  as  we  rode  all  that  night 
and  near  morning  came  to  a  small  camp  of 

Cm) 


mlf 


MISSION 


TALES 


workmen,  I  found  that  I  was  the  captive  of  a 
soldier,  and  not  an  intended  neophyte  for  the 
Mission. 

"Oh,  Father,  Father,  the  terror  of  those 
awful  days!  I  pleaded  with  Felipe  to  marry 
me,  that  if  he  would  but  marry  me  I  would 
live  with  him  and  serve  him;  but  he  would 
not,  he  would  not.  And  I  am  not  married. 
No  ceremony  was  said,  and  my  child  was  born, 
and  I  'm  not  married." 

She  moaned  and  moaned,  repeating  the  one 
sad  sentence  that  to  her  was  the  saddest  in  life; 
and  the  good  Padre  tried  to  comfort  her,  but 
there  were  no  words  with  which  to  plead,  to 
such  a  distressed  and  outraged  heart. 

Her  wee  child  cried  and  was  brought  to 
her,  and  as  she  folded  it  in  her  arms  she  said, 


TERESA 

"Sainted  Father,  will  you  not  baptize  my  baby 
even  if  I  am  not  married  ? "  The  good  man 
immediately  performed  the  rite  and  tried  to  cheer 
the  distressed  soul.  He  asked  the  matron  to 
act  as  godmother,  and  he  himself  took  both 
the  offices  of  priest  and  godfather. 

Teresa  showed  great  signs  of  weakness,  and 
told  how  she  had  walked  from  the  camp  with 
the  child,  stopping  only  to  gather  a  few  nuts 
by  the  way.  Felipe  had  even  kept  a  guard 
watching  over  her;  and  while  he  had  been  gener 
ally  kind,  he  was  always  cruel  when  she  broached 
the  subject  of  marriage,  swearing  terribly  at 
her  and  calling  her  vile  names,  "Indian  wench," 
and  many  other  words  she  had  never  heard. 

It  was  thought  best  for  the  present  not  to 
acquaint  the  Mission  family  with  the  return  of 


MISSION  TALES 

Teresa,  but  after  a  few  days  it  became  evident 
that  the  baby  was  very  ill  from  exposure  and 
lack  of  proper  nourishment,  for  Teresa  was  in  a 
prostrated  condition,  and  it  became  necessary 
to  tell  all  the  circumstances,  excepting  the  fact 
that  Felipe  had  not  married  Teresa. 

There  came  a  night  of  long  vigil  that 
brought  the  saddest  of  days  to  the  girl;  her  baby 
was  dead.  She  heard  them  preparing  for  the 
funeral;  but  not  until  she  was  led  into  the  chapel 
and  saw  the  wee  white-covered  coffin  enshrouded 
in  wild  flowers  and  rosettes  of  gilt  paper,  did 
she  realize  that  her  child  was  gone  from  her. 
She  heard  the  young  girls  chant  hymn  after 
hymn,  and  she  saw  the  cross  and  the  lighted 
candles,  but  sat  stricken  and  heart-broken,  not 
even  tears  coming  to  break  the  tenseness  of 

(296) 


TERESA 


her  feeling.  The  choir  ceased  singing,  and 
the  sound  of  the  organ  burst  forth  in  all  its 
volume,  as  if  to  silence  the  sounds  of  the  grave- 
digging  that  could  be  heard  throughout  the 
quiet  chapel.  The  ritual  was  intoned,  and  a 
prayer  was  offered  for  the  soul  of  the  departed 
infant,  and  then  all  the  Indians  joined  in  the 
Lord's  Prayer  in  the  Mutsun  dialect  spoken  at 
the  Mission.  As  the  familiar  words  fell  upon 
the  suffering  mother's  ear,  she  sobbed  aloud  and 
sank  prostrated  upon  the  floor  of  the  chapel. 
She  did  not  see  the  girls  pass  out  through 
the  door  bearing  the  tiny  coffin,  but  as  the 
chanting  ceased  and  silence  surrounded  her,  she 
heard  the  dull  sound  of  a  handful  of  earth 
as  it  was  cast  upon  the  coffin,  and  in  her  agony 
she  sprang  to  her  feet  and  ran  out  to  the  open 


MISSION  TALES 

grave;  she  would  have  cast  herself  into  it  had 
not  strong  arms  caught  her.  She  saw  each 
one  take  up  a  handful  of  earth,  kiss  it,  and  cast  it 
in  upon  the  coffin.  In  pity  the  good  God 
sent  her  relief  in  unconsciousness ;  and  lovingly 
they  carried  the  broken-hearted  mother  to  the 
matron's  room. 

For  weeks  the  girl  lay  hovering  between 
life  and  death;  her  one  moan  was,  "I  am  not 
married;  not  married."  She  would  call  upon 
Felipe,  begging  with  him  and  pleading  with  him 
to  have  the  solemn  rites  of  matrimony  performed, 
and  immediately  she  would  scream  and  protect 
herself  from  imaginary  blows. 

Day  by  day  the  good  Padre  sat  by  the  sick- 
couch,  soothing  the  girl  and  repeating  over  and 
over  again  — 

CJfH 


TERESA 

"Teresa,  do  you  take  this  man  Felipe  to  be 
your  lawful  wedded  husband? 

"I  pronounce  you  man  and  wife." 

He  hoped  that  the  words  would  sometime 
catch  the  aching  chord  in  her  distressed  mind 
and  bring  repose.  A  lucid  moment  came,  and 
the  girl  heard  the  last  few  words,  "I  pronounce 
you  man  and  wife,"  and  with  trembling  lips, 
as  if  trying  to  speak,  she  fell  into  the  long- 
looked-for  slumber  that  held  life  for  her. 

When  she  stirred,  a  few  spoonfuls  of  broth 
were  given  to  her,  and  gradually  she  was  coaxed 
into  a  natural  sleep. 

A  week  passed  before  she  spoke  to  the 
Padre,  and  then  she  said, 

"Father,  I  am  married,  am  I  not?  Did 
not  Felipe  come  and  marry  me?" 


* 


3^ 


ft 


we, 


MISSION  TALES 

What  was  there  to  say?  The  holy  man 
bowed  his  head  and  said :  "  You  are  married ; 
but  do  not  talk  now." 

"But,  Father,  I  ran  away  from  Felipe,  al 
though  he  guarded  me  so  well;  tell  me,  how 
did  he  come?"  faltered  the  girl. 

The  Padre  for  answer  said,  "If  you  persist 
in  talking,  I  shall  leave  jour  bedside  and  may 
not  come  again." 

Weeks  passed,  and  as  the  girl  gained  in 
strength,  the  Padre  determined  that  he  would 
never  tell  her  other  than  she  knew.  Teresa 
could  now  go  among  the  Indians,  and  the 
matron  cautioned  her  not  to  mention  her  past 
life  to  any  one;  they  respected  her  silence, 
and  she  gladly  kept  it.  She  heard  rumors  of 
dissatisfactions  among  the  neophytes,  and  with 

(300) 


TERESA 

terror  learned  that  they  were  arranging  for  an 
uprising  against  the  Padres,  but  she  little  thought 
that  the  tempest  was  ready  to  burst.  One  day 
in  her  weakness  she  lay  contemplating  how,  upon 
the  morrow,  she  would  tell  the  Padre  of  the  dis 
content  and  warn  him  of  the  trouble.  Her  keen, 
alert  Indian  ear  caught  the  sound  of  muffled 
steps,  and  she  sprang  to  her  door.  She  found 
that  the  approach  to  the  Padre's  apartments  was 
blocked  by  hundreds  of  skulking,  bended  forms. 
She  took  but  a  second  to  think  what  could  be 
done  to  avert  such  a  calamity — the  organ,  the 
music  box! 

She  flew  to  the  little  shielded  side-entrance 
to  the  chapel  and  stumbled  up  the  dark  steps 
that  led  to  the  music  box.  The  mob  had  gained 
the  door  of  the  chapel  and  with  suppressed 


MISSION  TALES 

rage  were  bursting  through  the  holy  portals ; 
but  the  notes  of  the  music  fell  upon  the 
throng,  and  for  a  moment  silenced  the  fore 
most.  As  the  girl  turned  the  crank  with 
all  the  force  of  her  weakened  arms,  she  found 
that  the  Indians  were  quieted,  and  as  the  hush 
continued  she  played  softly  and  more  softly, 
until  she  found  that  the  crowd  were  with 
drawing. 

In  a  short  time  the  church  was  still  as 
usual,  and  no  sounds  were  heard  in  the  pa 
tio.  Teresa  kept  playing  very  slowly  until  she 
was  confident  that  all  had  returned  to  their 
huts,  and  then  she  tried  to  rise  and  go  to 
the  Padre.  She  could  not  move,  the  fright 
and  exertion  left  her  helpless;  painfully  she 
crawled  to  the  foot  of  the  altar.  She  was 

(302} 


TERESA 

found  there  by  the  Padre,  who  had  learned  that 

i 

an  attack  was  in  progress,  but  did  not  know  how 
the  change  of  mind  had  occurred  until,  upon 
entering  the  chapel,  he  saw  Teresa  lying  at  the 
foot  of  the  cross. 

He  lifted  the  frail  form  and  carried  her 
back  to  the  matron ;  but  the  shock  and  excite 
ment  had  proven  too  great,  and  the  heart  of 
the  dearly  beloved  neophyte  Teresa  was  still 
forever. 


El  Molino  Viejo 

(The  Old   MM) 


EL  MOLING  VIEJO 

(THE  OLD   MILL) 

|N  a  gray  morning  in  Autumn, 
when  southern  California  was 
wearing  her  mantilla  of  per 
fection,  a  caravan  from  the 
Simi  Hills  came  winding  along 


the  picturesque  road,  bent  upon  pleasure. 
The  yells  of  the  white-haired  ganan,  or  driver, 
of  the  carretas  as  he  cried,  "Arr'e!  Arrel 
bueyecillo,  arre !  arr'e !  bueyezuelo !  "  and  goaded 
the  fat  sides  of  the  oxen  with  his  long,  stout 
garrocha,  could  scarce  be  heard  above  the  shrill 
laughter  of  children  and  the  screaming  and 
singing  of  gay  young  people,  each  bent  upon 

(jo?} 


MISSION  TALES 

being  heard  above  the  creakings  and  groanings 
of  the  ponderous  yet  gayly  decorated  convey 
ances. 

All  the  morning  the  hot  sun  had  been  veiled 
by  a  breath  from  the  sea,  and  the  soft  mist 
floating  far  inland  left  the  balm  of  the  ocean 
pressing  ever  so  lightly  on  the  warm  brows 
of  the  people,  thus  paying  joy  to  the  party  in 
propitiation  for  the  later  discomforting  heat 
of  the  sun,  which  would  soon  drink  up  this 
wine  from  the  sea  and  leave  a  short  hot  day 
to  the  travellers. 

According  to  custom,  Salvador  was  taking 
the  grain  down  to  El  Molino  Viejo,  the  only 
mill  of  any  consequence,  and  the  occasion  was 
a  time  for  picnicking  and  visiting  along  the 
way.  A  hundred  pack-mules  were  bulging  with 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J   O 

heavy  aparejos  stuffed  full  to  bursting  with 
golden  grain,  while  other  mules  carried  the  pro 
visions  and  camp  outfit  for  the  party.  Scores 
of  Indians  ran  hither  and  thither,  prodding  the 
pack-mules  and  yelling  incessantly,  "Arr'e!  Arrel 
A  la  vereda,  vamos  a  la  fiesta  porque  del  cuero 
viene  la  correa!"  ("Get  up!  Get  up!  Keep  in 
the  road,  go  to  the  fiesta,  the  hides  will  pay  for 
the  strings!")  as  if  in  accompaniment  to  the 
snatches  of  songs  sung  by  the  riders  as  they 
swayed  in  their  saddles. 

There  was  a  long  line  of  young  folks  in 
the  party  gathered  from  different  neighboring 
ranches,  all  riding  prancing,  spirited  horses;  and 
the  gleam  of  harvest  festival  was  reflected  from 
gay  adornments  on  even  the  elderly  women  and 
small  children,  who  were  carefully  stowed  away 

(309} 


MISSION  TALES 

in  the  carretas.  These  great  ponderous  carts 
were  mounted  on  two  wheels,  each  wheel  made 
of  a  single  circular  piece  of  oak  with  a  hole 
in  the  centre  for  the  axle  to  creak  in, — and  the 
hideous  creaking  and  groaning  could  be  heard 
a  mile  off. 

Salvador,  who  was  the  head  shepherd  at 
the  Simi  rancho,  had  been  sent  as  foreman 
of  the  pack-train;  and  he  kept  busy  riding  first 
to  the  front  and  then  galloping  back  to  the 
rear,  lashing  here  a  lazy  pack-mule  and  there 
a  laggard  Indian,  doing  his  work  with  smiles 
and  again  meting  out  his  rebukes  with  tem 
pered  severity  that  made  him  beloved  even  by 
the  lazy.  Salvador's  father  was  an  Indian  and 
his  mother  a  mulattress,  and  together  they 
had  developed  in  their  son  the  best  traits  of 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J   O 

both  races.  When  the  major  domo  at  the  rancho 
called  the  head  shepherd  to  him  and  said, 
"Salvador,  I  am  old,  and  too  frail  now  to  take 
the  grain  to  the  mill;  you  must  take  it;  and 
remember  you  are  responsible  to  me  for 
every  one  of  these  people,  for  all  the  stock,  and 
for  all  of  the  grain,"  and  the  boy  answered, 
"I  will  defend  them  with  my  life,"  the  major 
domo  knew  that  all  would  be  as  safe  and  as 
well  as  if  he  himself  went  with  them. 

About  noon  the  party  came  in  sight  of 
Encino  rancho.  Here  they  were  delighted  to 
see  gathered  along  El  Camino  Real  a  large 
party  of  young  friends  ready  to  join  them,  and 
here  also  was  another  carreta.  This  cart  was 
gayly  decorated  with  a  canopy  which  was  in 
fact  an  exquisitely  embroidered  silken  bedspread. 


MISSION  TALES 

The  background  was  of  grass-green  silk,  em 
broidered  over  the  entire  field  with  brightest 
red  and  yellow,  pink  and  white  roses,  with 
intertwining  leaves  and  stems,  making  the  old 
carreta  appear  to  be  a  real  rose-bower  bloom 
ing  along  the  King's  Highway.  From  the  edges 
hung  a  rich,  deep,  silken  knotted  fringe.  Be 
neath  the  heavy  fringe  again  hung  lace  cur 
tains,  the  filmy  meshes  shading  the  faces  of 
the  sleeping  babies  and  making  a  love-screen 
for  the  young  mothers  to  cast  voiceless  soul- 
dreams  to  their  mates,  who  pressed  alongside 
like  butterflies  sipping  the  heart  of  the  rose. 

This  carriage  decoration  contrasted  well  with 
the  one  coming  from  the  Simi,  having  a  canopy 
of  green  boughs  interlaced  with  gay  artificial  flow 
ers  and  caught  with  bright  ribbons  in  festoons, 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J   O 


which  hung  over  lace  curtains  that  shielded  the 
occupants  from  the  rays  of  the  sun. 

Three  or  four  days  were  consumed  on  the 
road  before  Salvador  had  his  picturesque  party 
well  settled  on  the  banks  of  Lake  Vineyard. 

The  mill  was  near  by,  and  was  in  itself  a 
work  of  great  value,  one  that  was  built  by  the 
worthy  Americano,  Jose  Chapman,  under  the 
close  direction  and  eye  of  the  thrifty  Padre  Jose 
Maria  Zalvidea  of  the  San  Gabriel  Mission, 
in  order  that  the  extensive  grain  fields  of  the 
Mission  should  find  a  ready  outlet  for  their 
produce.  The  rose-tinted  tile  roof  of  El  Mo- 
lino  Viejo  cast  like  a  flower  the  tint  to  the  hill 
that  it  rested  against.  The  stone  walls  and 
great  wheel  were  strength  to  the  landscape; 
and  the  gnarled  oaks  and  balsamic  pines  lured 


MISSION  TALES 

the  traveller  to  rest.  Toward  the  road,  the 
wide-sweeping  pepper-trees  with  their  bright 
berries,  and  the  gaunt  eucalypti  stood  like  sen 
tinels  guarding  the  mill. 

The  picnickers  spent  the  days  of  the  mill 
ing  by  the  fountain  in  the  shade  of  the  oaks 
and  elms.  Here  great  wide-eyed  periwinkles 
entwined  themselves  with  wild  roses,  and  together 
they  dipped  over  the  edge  of  the  fountain,  kiss 
ing  the  water-lilies  that  covered  the  entire  sur 
face  of  the  water.  Many  lovers  strayed  away 
to  gather  wild  flowers,  while  the  others  danced 
on  the  lawn  under  the  trees  or  sang  to  the  ac 
companiment  of  guitars  and  violins. 

The  evenings  were  spent  in  dancing  on  the 
floor  of  the  mill,  when  Josefita  and  Teodoro 
charmed  the  company  with  their  graces  in  the 


EL      M  O  L  I  N  0       VIE  JO 

beautiful  "La  Cachuca"  (The  Cap);  or  Viviana 
and  Don  Antonio  danced  the  equally  fascinating 
"Cuna."  The  "Jarabe"  (Sweet  Drink)  and  "El 
Trabuco"  (The  Gun)  were  interspersed  with 
many  others,  as  night  after  night  the  jolly  party 
danced  and  sang. 

Besides  these  dances  there  were  many  gen 
eral  dances,  such  as  "El  Sombrero  Blanco"  (The 
White  Hat),  "Las  Pollitas"  (Little  Chickens), 
and  "La  Jota"  (The  Jaybird),  wherein  every  one 
joined.  In  these,  they  formed  in  sets  comprised 
of  twenty  or  even  thirty-two  couples;  and  when 
two  or  three  sets  filled  the  old  mill,  they  made 
it  ring  with  glee  and  fairly  vibrate  to  the  per 
fect  time  of  the  dancers. 

"Las  Pollitas"  was  a  popular  dance,  as  the 
music  was  sung  by  one  of  the  most  gifted  sing- 


MISSION  TALES 

ers,  and  the  length  of  the  dance  depended 
upon  his  versatility  in  composing  the  words  as 
he  sang.  Each  evening  new  verses  were  added, 
telling  of  the  freaks  of  the  little  chickens, 
amid  peals  of  laughter  and  general  applause, 
when  all  would  join  in  the  chorus  of — 

"£hie  se  lleven   a  la  polla, 
<^ue  no  se  la  llevaran, 
6)ue  si  la  polla  se  la  llevan, 
Carambas,  yo  voy  alia." 

"Let  them  take  the  little  chicken, 
No,  they  will  not  take  her, 
But  if  they  do  take  her 
Carambas!     I'm  going  too." 

One  evening  the  whole  story  of  "  Las  Polli- 
tas"  was  told  in  the  song,  to    the   discomfiture 


•*^: 


I 
I 

J 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J   O 

of  a  few  gringos  who  had  presumed  to  attend 
the  dance  uninvited.  The  man  sang  of  the  poor 
little  birdie  chickens  that  were  so  innocently 
enjoying  a  birdies'  ball,  when  a  gathering  of 
hawks  soared  over  the  chicks  until  some  of  the 
elders,  seeing  the  plight  of  the  babies,  allayed 
their  fears  by  telling  them  that  they  would  build 
a  house  for  the  chicklets  that  would  defend 
them  from  the  hawks.  Applying  the  words  with 
gestures  to  the  present  onlookers,  the  singer 
gained  what  he  wanted,  the  departure  of  the 
Americanos. 

The  impromptu  rendition  of  verses  to  any 
of  the  songs  always  produced  the  height  of  mer 
riment,  and  was  received  with  perfect  enjoy 
ment  and  without  criticism. 

When  the  wee  hours  apppoached,  "La  Jota" 


MISSION  TALES 

(The  Jaybird)  was  introduced  and  danced  un 
til  morning.  It  was  a  rollicking  dance,  and  as 
both  music  and  words  were  supplied  by  the 
musicians,  the  strength  of  the  dancers  was  not 
taxed  by  singing;  if  the  musicians  could 
sing  until  morning,  the  gay  party  danced  until 
they  saw  the  sunlight  stream  over  the  top  of 
the  Sierra  Madre. 

No  one  among  the  gay  throng  was  anxious 
except  Salvador.  Frequently  he  made  trips 
over  to  San  Gabriel  Mission,  about  a  league 
away,  there  to  exchange  his  flour  for  the  needed 
supplies  to  be  taken  back  to  Simi.  Upon 
each  trip  he  learned  further  news  of  a  band 
of  robbers  that  were  infesting  the  country.  The 
outlaws  were  everywhere.  One  day  they  drove 
herds  from  the  hill  ranchos,  and  the  following 

(3*8) 


EL       M  0  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J   O 

day  they  robbed  the  stage  from  San  Pedro. 
"They  infest  the  very  air  we  must  breathe," 
murmured  Salvador,  and  with  great  uneasi 
ness  he  remembered  his  responsibility — and 
his  promise  to  the  major  domo. 

He  took  no  one  into  his  confidence,  but 
he  thought  well  concerning  the  gold  that  was 
theirs,  and  how  best  to  guard  it;  for  to  carry 
it  now  to  the  rancho  would  be  but  to  give  it  to 
the  outlaws.  Such  thoughts  filled  his  mind 
as  the  strains  of  "La  Jota"  were  filling  the 
silent  cove,  and  the  swift  pattering  of  feet  kept 
time  to  the  words: 

"  El  cuervo  en  el  aire  vuela  vigilante 
Vuela  para  atras,  vuela  para  adelante, 
Si  la  pi'edra  es  dura,  tu  eres  un  diamante, 
^ue  mi  amor  no  ba  podido  ablandar. 


MISSION  TALES 

"El  que  del  mundo 
£)uiere  gozar 
Ha  de  ser  soltere 
T  no  se  debe  casar." 

"The  crow,  through  the  air,  flies   vigilantly, 
Flies  backward,  flies  onward. 
Stone  may  be  hard,  you  are  a  diamond 
Which  my  love,  as  yet,  is   unable  to  soften. 

"He  that  wishes  to  enjoy 
The  pleasures  of  the  world 
Should  remain  single, 
And  be  without  the  duties  of  matrimony." 

Salvador  passed  out  into  the  night,  out 
among  the  sighing  trees,  as  if  to  see  again  that 
his  camp  was  safe  and  the  workers  asleep;  but 
in  truth  to  raise  cautiously  a  very  heavy  box 
to  his  shoulder  and  pass  up  the  slope  of  the 

(320} 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J   O 

hill.  Returning,  he  took  a  shovel  and  pick 
that  he  had  earlier  placed  against  the  wall  of 
the  mill  cistern,  then,  winding  back  and  forth 
about  and  among  the  trees,  he  zigzagged  in 
order  to  cover  a  possible  trail,  and  again 
paused  at  the  foot  of  the  giant  tree  where  he 
had  already  placed  the  box. 

A  few  days  later,  Salvador  gave  word  that 
the  grain  was  all  ground,  and  that  Don 
Antonio  would  conduct  the  carretas  and  young 
people  by  the  way  of  Verdugo  rancho,  resting 
there  one  day,  and  meeting  his  own  party  on 
the  following  Friday  at  the  Asistencia  Chapel  of 
Cahuenga;  as  it  was  necessary  that  he  go  by 
way  of  the  pueblo  of  Los  Angeles,  there  to 
obtain  sundry  supplies  not  procurable  at  San 
Gabriel  Mission.  In  order  that  the  women  and 


MISSION  TALES 

children  might  be  safely  guarded,  Salvador  sent 
many  of  the  Indians  with  some  of  the  flour 
along  with  Don  Antonio,  but  thereby  greatly 
weakened  his  own  party.  Many  a  love-storm 
had  gathered  at  the  milling  party,  and  all  were 
loath  to  leave  the  charming  and  seductive  spot. 
Salvador  arrived  at  noon  at  Los  Angeles 
and  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  making  his 
purchases.  At  dawn  the  pack-train,  "head-and- 
tailing"  in  true  Indian  style,  started  from  the 
door  of  the  little  chapel  Nuestra  Senora  de 
Los  Angeles,  hoping  the  farewell  blessing  of 
the  good  Padre  would  protect  the  little  band 
against  marauders.  The  living,  moving,  squirm 
ing  line  wended  its  way  up  the  hill  back  of 
the  Plaza,  weaving  in  and  out  through  the 
gulches  that  break  the  steeps,  leaving  only  the 


i 


it  !*.*' 


THE  PACK-TRAIN  STARTED  FROM  THE  DOOR  OF  THE  CHAPEL, 

HOPING  THE  FAREWELL  BLESSING  OF  THE  PADRE 

WOULD  PROTECT  THEM 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J   O 

sonorous  "Arre,  arre,  arre,  arre"  wafted   back 
as  an  echo. 

At  late  noon  the  little  party  rested  under 
the  shady  grove  of  oak-trees  near  Cahuenga 
Pass,  the  same  grove  that  Father  Junipera 
Serra  blessed  by  his  presence  when  he  made 
his  first  journey  north  to  Monterey.  It  was 
here  that  the  good  Padre  had  said  the 
Mass  of  the  Holy  Wood  of  the  Cross  on 
that  third  of  May  so  long  ago,  and  it  was 
the  blessed  memory  of  that  Mass  that  now 
quieted  the  fears  of  the  faithful  Salvador.  But 
only  for  a  trice.  A  cloud  of  dust  and  a  clat 
tering  of  hoofs  made  all  the  men  jump  to  their 
saddles  to  obtain  control  of  the  pack-train,  as 
a  party  of  rollicking  fellows  shouted  "Buenos 
diasl "  and  sped  on  toward  the  sea.  All  wished 


**•  tat 


MISSION  TALES 

to   sit   down   again   and   finish   their  siesta  —  all 
but  Salvador. 

For  the  first  time  the  young  leader  ex 
pressed  to  his  men  the  fears  he  entertained  of 
being  waylaid,  and  told  them  of  the  many 
depredations  being  constantly  committed;  fur 
ther,  he  said,  he  believed  that  the  party  which  had 
just  now  so  boldly  and  daringly  ndden  past  were 
the  robbers,  for  he  knew  not  a  single  face  of 
them  and  had  seen  them  at  every  turn  in  town. 
He  told  each  man  to  see  well  to  his  fire-arms, 
that  all  were  loaded  and  ready  for  sudden 
defence. 

Against  the  hill  at  the  head  of  the  pass  was 
the  home  place  of  Chief  Cahuenga,  the  kind 
and  trusty  old  Indian  whom  all  equally  loved 
—  Spaniards,  Indians,  and  gringos.  To  ask  re- 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J  O 

inforcements  from  him  was  to  receive  them  if 
at  hand.  It  took  but  a  moment  for  Salvador 
to  explain  to  Cahuenga  the  situation,  and  to 
state  further  that  they  did  not  carry  the  gold, 
but  that  the  robbers  did  not  know  that  fact. 
Only  a  few  Indians  were  available,  but  among 
them  was  Cahuenga 's  son,  who  volunteered  to 
go  with  the  party  through  the  pass  and  as 
far  as  the  chapel.  No  time  was  lost  in  useless 
preparations,  for  the  Indians  feared  such  an 
enemy  as  that  which  had  just  passed. 

The  pass  through  the  Cahuenga  hills  was 
steep,  and  the  trail  narrow;  the  mules  were  heav 
ily  laden,  and  the  nervousness  of  the  drivers  was 
transmitted  to  the  stock,  so  all  were  restless. 

Long  before  the  small  caravan  had  reached 
the  divide  the  sun  was  low  and  red,  with  a  bank 


MISSION 


TALES 


of  dark  lowering  clouds  to  hide  the  light; 
when  the  band  was  once  beyond  the  crest  and 
on  the  eastward  slope,  the  daylight  dimmed 
rapidly,  and  soon  darkness  enveloped  the  quick- 
moving  mule-train.  It  seemed  to  the  nervous 
men  that  now  and  again  horses  with  reckless 
riders  were  outlined  against  the  dim  sky  and 
skirted  the  crown  of  the  hills  only  to  disap 
pear  as  phantoms.  Perhaps  these  were  only 
scraggly  trees;  but  overwrought  nerves,  or  the 
demon  of  fear,  possessed  the  hearts  of  the  men, 
except  possibly  Cahuenga,  the  stoical  Indian. 
He  set  a  fast  pace  for  the  mules  and  kept  the 
garrochasy  or  prods,  swinging  like  ball-bats  to 
keep  the  laggards  in  line. 

The  rose-glow  of  the  cloudy  night  had  dis 
appeared,   and    the  violet   rays   were    fast    min- 


E  Z,       M  0  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J  O 


gling  with  black,  when  a  distant  sound  made 
young  Cahuenga  ride  to  the  side  of  Salvador 
and  cry,  "They  come/' 

He  raised  a  wicked  -looking  knife  and 
hefted  a  weighty  club  that  he  carried  as  a  quirt, 
saying,  "These  are  my  defence,  look  well  to 
yours,  for  we  shall  have  need  of  them,  and 
soon.  " 

The  road  dropped  suddenly  into  a  densely 
shaded  ravine,  and  ran  along  the  course  of 
a  small  stream  for  some  distance.  The  moun 
tain  cast  deep  shadow  and  gloom  over  the  valley, 
and  only  the  keen  eyes  of  an  Indian  could  now 
follow  the  winding  path. 

A  sharp  report  from  the  side  of  the  hill 
just  ahead  of  the  mules  surprised  the  party,  and 
a  clear  command,  "Halt!"  brought  the  thor- 


U 


MISSION  TALES 

oughly   frightened   Indians   and   obedient    mules 
to  a  standstill. 

It  was  for  an  instant  only,  and  then  such  a 
blood-curdling  yell  as  came  from  the  throat  of 
young  Cahuenga  no  one  could  have  heard 
without  quailing.  The  robbers  fell  back,  and 
in  that  moment  were  lost.  The  terrified  Indians 
took  up  the  yell,  and  the  terrified  mules 
stampeded.  Over  the  hills,  along  the  trail, 
coming  and  going,  they  went.  The  rushing 
band  of  men  and  mules,  the  robbers  and  robbed, 
became  at  once  so  mixed  that  no  one  dared 
attack  another  lest  he  kill  a  friend. 

The  war  whoops  of  the  Indians  and  the 
tramp  of  the  galloping  horses  soon  came  within 
the  hearing  of  Don  Antonio  and  his  party  at 
the  secluded  little  chapel.  The  men  rushed 

(3**) 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O      V   I  E  J   O 

to  their  horses,  for  the  furious  yelling  betokened 
immediate  danger  of  some  kind.  The  rescuers 
tried  to  answer  the  calls  for  help,  but  were 
mistaken  by  the  frightened  Indians  for  a  fresh 
band  of  marauders,  and  were  fired  upon  by 
the  now  desperate  men. 

When  Antonio  called  "Salvador,  Salvador/* 
a  few  recognized  his  voice  and  rallied  about 
him,  and  they  were  soon  able  to  head  off 
and  round  up  the  frightened  pack-train.  No 
one  had  seen  or  could  tell  anything  of  Salva 
dor  after  the  attack.  Cahuenga  had  not  missed 
him,  as  it  was  his  and  every  other  Indian's 
custom  and  training  to  look  out  for  himself 
alone  in  time  of  danger. 

Gathering  as  many  of  the  pack-mules  to 
gether  as  he  could,  Don  Antonio  pushed  on 


^^-  •'• 


MISSION 


TALES 


to  the  chapel.  He  secured  a  light  to  return 
and  look  for  Salvador,  for  it  had  become  evi 
dent  that  something  serious  had  befallen  him. 
Cahuenga  led  the  party  back,  and  about  a 
mile  from  the  cross  road  where  Antonio  had 
met  the  stampeded  party  Cahuenga's  horse 
shied.  He  sprang  to  the  ground  and  spoke 
softly  to  the  dark  object  lying  by  the  road, 
but  no  answer  came.  By  the  dim  rays  of  the 
small  torch,  he  discovered  a  horseman  caught 
under  his  fallen  horse.  The  animal  was  dead 
from  a  bullet  wound,  and  the  rider,  Salvador, 
was  unconscious.  The  side  of  his  face  was 
terribly  crushed  by  contact  with  a  sharp  rock 
against  which  he  had  fallen. 

Strong  arms  gently  lifted  him  into  Cahuen 
ga's  saddle,  and    a    slim  lad    was    raised  behind 

(330} 


EL      M  0  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J  O 

him  to  hold  the  limp  form  in  place  as  best 
he  could.  The  return  trip  seemed  endless. 
The  fear  of  a  fresh  attack  added  suspense  to 
the  grief  for  Salvador's  condition  and  made  the 
party  silent. 

The  moon  was  slowly  rising  from  back  of 
the  trees  that  covered  the  banks  of  the  little 
stream  flowing  by  the  chapel  when  the  sad 
dened  party  laid  the  almost  lifeless  form  of 
Salvador  down  by  the  water,  and  Don  Antonio 
began  to  wash  the  dirt  and  blood  stains  from 
the  wounded  face.  In  the  moonlight  the  features 
were  ghastly  white,  and  when  the  eyelids  began 
to  quiver,  even  brave  Don  Tono  turned  with  a 
start  to  the  Father  who  had  just  come,  saying, 
"  Take  you  this  dead  man's  face  in  your 
hands  and  wash  it;  I  cannot." 

U?/) 


>>* 


MISSION 


TALES 


The  Father  replied,  "Go,  son,  it  is  indeed 
my  duty.  Go,  you,  into  the  chapel  and  quiet 
the  women  and  children;  that  is  your  duty." 

When  alone  with  the  injured  man  the  quiet 
Padre  began  to  speak  gently  to  him,  soothingly 
and  naturally;  he  talked  to  him  of  the  sheep 
and  of  the  wool  and  of  the  daily  life  at  Simi, 
knowing  that  when  he  regained  consciousness, 
if  indeed  he  did,  all  would  be  confusion;  but 
if  a  simple  word  of  his  accustomed  work  and 
duties  caught  his  attention,  it  would  be  the 
easier  to  straighten  out  the  tangled  web  of  on- 
rushing  thoughts.  An  hour  passed,  and  then 
another;  those  who  came  to  inquire  were  firmly 
waved  back,  and  only  the  Padre  knelt  by  the 
injured  man.  Near  midnight  Salvador  slowly 
opened  his  eyes,  and  hearing  some  one  speak- 

(332} 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J  O 

ing  about  his  sheep,  mechanically  answered 
the  slow,  simply  stated  questions  concerning 
them.  Presently  he  recognized  his  true  fath 
erly  friend,  Padre  Lopez,  and  smiled.  In 
a  moment  the  pain  in  his  head  made  him 
put  up  his  hand,  and  he  found  the  bandage 
about  his  forehead,  but  thought  he  merely  had 
a  severe  headache.  When  the  Father  tried 
to  raise  him,  he  found  that  to  move  was 
intense  agony. 

After  a  second  trial  Salvador  fell  heavily  back 
with  a  deep  sigh  of  pain  and  despair,  and 
after  several  moments  of  terrible  suffering  he 
rallied  again  and  said:  "Holy  friend,  I  am 
dying.  Go  quickly,  fetch  writing  materials,  for 
you  must  prepare  a  paper  of  great  importance. 
Permit  no  one  to  come  to  me,  not  even  my 
(333) 


MISSION  TALES 

brother,  for  my  strength  is  fast  failing,  and  I 
cannot —  I  may  not — leave  this  matter  undone." 

Padre  Lopez  speedily  returned  to  the  dying 
man  with  pen  and  a  bit  of  parchment  which 
he  had  torn  quickly  from  an  old  book,  and 
there  on  the  banks  of  the  little  stream,  on  exactly 
the  same  spot  now  famous  as  the  place  where 
the  Treaty  of  Cahuenga  was  drawn,  that  made 
California  an  American  province,  the  dying  man 
dictated  to  the  good  priest  the  statement  of  the 
location  of  his  master's  gold  that  he  had  buried 
in  a  strong-box  at  the  foot  of  the  tall  pine 
on  the  sloping  hill  back  of  El  Molino  Viejo. 

"Write  it  all  in  Greek,  Father,  for  the 
master  of  Simi  knows  well  the  foreign  tongue 
and  loves  it;  then  no  common  man  may  read 
the  paper  if  it  becomes  lost  or  stolen,"  said 


EL       M  0  L  I  N  0       V  I  E  J   O 


the  careful  Salvador.  The  flickering,  doubtful 
light  of  the  Padre's  tiny  taper  made  it  diffi 
cult  for  the  good  man  both  to  write  and 
watch  the  faltering  sufferer. 

In  the  statement,  the  boy  made  it  very  plain 
that  the  danger  from  outlaws  made  it  wholly 
unsafe  to  bring  the  gold  at  this  time  across 
the  country.  Reaching  a  trembling,  wavering 
hand  out  toward  the  Padre,  he  said,  "You  see, 
Father,  I  was  right,  was  n't  I  ?  And  the  ma 
jor  domo  will  say  I  did  well,  won't  he? "  as 
though  his  one  great  desire  was  to  hear  the 
words,  "Well  done." 

The  kind  Padre  answered,  "It  was  well 
done,  my  son,  well  done  indeed,  and  you  will 
hear  it  said  many,  many  times  in  the  great 
beyond." 


ft 


MISSION  TALES 

Salvador  asked  the  priest  to  read  the 
description  of  the  location,  that  he  might  know 
that  it  was  correct.  It  ran : 

"  Exactly  within  the  centre  of  the  circle 
formed  by  three  trees — a  pine,  an  elm,  and  an 
oak — that  stand  near  the  top  of  the  hill  back 
of  El  Molino  Viejo,  and  in  a  direct  line  up 
the  hill  from  the  fountain,  there  is  buried  a 
strong-box  containing  gold  and  silver,  and  also 
an  account  of  the  milling,  the  grain,  and  the 
purchases,  together  with  the  money  there 
deposited.  A  pile  of  stone  I  placed  against  the 
pine-tree;  I  cut  a  cross  upon  the  elm-tree,  and 
I  drove  a  wooden  wedge  far  into  the  one  large 
root  of  the  oak  at  a  split  near  the  ground." 

The  description  ended,  and  with  great 
effort  the  boy  scrawled  "Salvador." 

(336} 


bs-^i 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J   O 

The  statement  was  carefully  sealed,  and 
explicit  directions  were  given  by  Salvador  for 
its  safe  transmission  to  Simi  rancho.  The 
paper  was  to  be  given  to  Salvador's  brother, 
with  the  explanation  that  it  was  the  dying  state 
ment  of  the  head  shepherd,  and  that  it  was  to 
be  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  master  of  Simi. 

When  all  was  finished,  the  priest  called  to 
the  men  to  assist  him  in  carrying  the  sinking 
man  into  the  little  chapel,  that  the  faithful  ser 
vant  might  have  full  benefit  of  the  holy  sur 
roundings  ^in  his  pain  and  death.  Gently  he  was 
placed  at  the  foot  of  the  altar  in  the  little 
Cahuenga  chapel,  and  there,  surrounded  by 
loving  friends,  who  scarcely  knew  how  they  would 
arrive  safely  without  his  guiding  hand,  the  suf 
fering  boy  lay  till  dawn.  As  the  cold  steel- 

(337} 


' 


MISSION  TALES 

gray  of  the  morning  began  to  lighten  the  little 
chapel,  the  Father  gave  the  true  soul  absolu 
tion,  and  the  spirit  went  to  its  God. 

Sad  indeed  was  the  home-coming  of  that 
gay  milling  party.  A  messenger  was  sent  for 
ward  to  announce  the  coming  and  prepare  for 
the  sad  arrival.  After  the  funeral  it  was  learned 
by  the  attendants  that  much  money  was 
missing,  and  it  was  generally  believed  that  the 
robbers  had  taken  it  from  the  unconscious  Sal 
vador. 

Years  and  years  passed,  and  one  day  an 
old  negro  came  to  El  Molino  Viejo.  He 
told  of  many  milling  trips  that  he  had  taken 
from  the  up  country  down  to  the  mill,  and 
especially  of  one  when  his  half-brother  was 
killed  and  robbed  by  highwaymen.  He  showed 

(338} 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J  O 

a  stained  and  yellow  parchment  that  had 
been  given  to  him  by  the  priest  Lopez,  who 
told  him  that  it  was  a  dying  statement  made 
by  his  brother  Salvador,  and  that  the  master 
at  Simi  could  read  it.  But  he  had  never  given 
it  to  the  master  to  read  for  him,  and  therefore 
never  knew  what  his  brother  had  written. 

He  showed  the  paper  to  two  young  college 
boys,  one  the  son  of  the  foreman  of  the  mill, 
who  had  some  knowledge  of  Greek  characters; 
and  with  the  aid  of  a  dictionary,  the  two  lads 
deciphered  the  statement  and  found  it  to  be  a 
description  of  the  location  of  a  strong-box 
hidden  there  on  the  hill.  They  gave  the  old 
negro  a  few  coins  for  the  parchment,  and  the 
boys  dug  up  the  side  of  the  hill  in  vain  efforts  to 
locate  the  hidden  treasure.  The  trees  had  been 

(339) 


MISSION  TALES 

long  ago  replaced  with  others,  and  the  diggers 
had  only  the  position  of  the  fountain  from  which 
to  take  their  directions.  They  could  work  only 
on  the  nights  when  it  rained  or  when  there 
was  no  moon.  The  quiet  hush  of  the  hill  was 
broken  only  by  the  crackling  sound  of  falling 
leaves  and  a  mysterious  voice  calling  " L-a-d-r-o-n  y 
l-a-d-r-o-n!"  ("Thief,  thief!")  At  first  the 
voice  was  distant  and  scarcely  heard  by  the 
boys ;  but  as  they  worked,  the  voice  came 
nearer  and  nearer,  until  at  last  it  seemed  to 
drive  the  words  right  into  their  very  ears.  The 
sound  so  close  sent  a  tingling  shock  down  the 
spine,  like  an  electric  current,  and  the  pulse 
stood  still,  while  both  boys  quivered  with  the 
shock.  Without  a  word,  they  ceased  work  and 
stole  softly  toward  the  mill  and  to  bed. 


EL       M   O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E   J   O 

Night  after  night  the  voice  now  followed 
them,  and  as  the  rain  fell  on  certain  nights, 
the  boys  saw  visions  of  a  dark-robed  figure 
gliding  through  the  trees,  lit  up  now  and 
then  by  a  playful  flash  of  sheet  lightning, 
and  it  was  followed  always  by  the  ghostly 
voice,  sighing,  "  L-a-d-r-o-n  !  " 

"It  is  the  ghost  of  Salvador  watching  over 
this  accursed  gold,  I  do  believe,"  said  the  older 
boy;  "and  if  we  do  not  soon  find  the  box,  I 
will  willingly  give  you  my  share." 

"The  negro  said  that  the  hill  was  haunted, 
and  that  ghosts  stalked  about  at  night ;  and  I 
think  he  was  right,  I  think  they  do,"  replied 
the  other. 

"If  only  father  would  help  us,"  said  the  boy, 
"  I  believe  we  could  find  it." 


M 


MISSION  TALES 

"No,  no,  don't  let  us  divide  the  money,  let 
us  keep  it  all  to  ourselves.  I  will  not  consent 
to  your  dragging  your  father  into  this  compact. 
I  am  not  afraid!  " 

And  so  again  they  began  to  work,  digging 
first  under  one  tree  and  then  under  another; 
but  all  the  while  the  voice  sighed, "  L-a-d-r-o-n  I" 
and  the  spinal  columns  of  the  boys  froze 
tighter  and  tighter.  A  flash  of  lightning  dis 
played  the  figure  of  the  watching  ghost,  and  a 
moment  later  they  both  stood  trembling  at 
the  door  of  the  mill,  ready  to  cease  forever 
from  the  search  for  the  haunted  gold. 

It  was  well  they  did,  for  the  following  day 
the  foreman  received  notice  to  the  effect  that 
his  services  at  the  mill  were  no  longer  required. 

134*} 


EL       M  O  L  I  N  O       V  I  E  J   O 

The  notice  stated  that  the  disturbances  on  the 
hill  were  again  noticed,  and  even  the  appear 
ance  on  several  occasions  of  phantom  shadows 
was  reported;  and  as  they  always  brought  bad 
luck  upon  some  one,  and  the  foreman  chose 
to  ignore  the  general  agitation  among  the 
people,  his  services  might  cease. 

In  truth,  the  foreman  had  passed  through 
the  grove  every  night,  but  had  not  chanced  to 
come  upon  the  boys.  Even  now,  when  they 
were  all  leaving,  the  boys  were  unwilling  to 
confide  in  the  older  man,  for  they  were  con 
vinced  that  the  place  was  guarded  by  Salva 
dor's  spirit,  that  no  stranger  might  find  the 
Simi  gold  of  the  mill. 

In  later  years  the  story  of  the  hidden  treas- 


MISSION 


TALES 


are  became  well  known,  but  a  thorough,  deep 
ploughing  of  the  hill  revealed  no  strong-box. 
The  shepherd's  ghost  guards  safely  to  this  day 
the  gold  of  El  Molino  Viejo,  and  ill  luck 
attends  all  who  search  for  it. 

THE  END 


41      ** 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 

•rtT 


DEC10RECD 

EDUCATION  LIB 


LIBRARY  USE 


r  r*   o  1 


General  Library 
University  of  California 
Berkel 


LD  21A-50m-4,'59 
(A1724slO)476B 


706143 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


*  '    1  4 
I*      1* 


